New Reign
by Newbourne5
Summary: An alpha female without a pack makes an attempt to join Derek's. When he refuses to take her in, she decides to get creative. She wants to steal Scott for her own pack and Jackson for much more. Set during season two. T for language and mild adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

1

Greetings! So I've been toying around with the idea of an alpha female and wanted to take a stab at creating this character. I want to focus a lot on werewolf "culture" so to speak. I like the idea of what kinds of laws govern werewolves and their packs. Hopefully my ideas aren't too out there or repetitive of other stories in the fandom. Also, with the "hubris" story arc for Derek this season, I thought it would be interesting to have him encounter another alpha and spar with her both verbally and physically. Scott and Jackson will play large parts in this story, and of course the wonderful Stiles will make some appearances. Well I hope you like and please review because it lets me know where I can improve and helps to boost confidence (if you like the story, that is). Thank you!

Amy pulled her wavy mass of chocolate brown hair into a thick ponytail. She studied the massive house on the corner. "Nothing a little concentration and persistence can't solve," she said, inspecting the pliers she grasped in her right hand. Her ice blue eyes glittered. "And luck of course."

It was a cool evening in autumn, so she didn't have the sounds of crickets or tree frogs to help to mask her presence. However, she didn't really need any help. The twenty-year-old alpha was stealthy even by werewolf standards. Humans would be a breeze. However, these weren't your average humans. Not by a long shot.

She frowned when she reached the front door to inspect the alarm system. It was a simple closed circuit. She could disarm that with a quick swipe of her claws. But this family wasn't stupid. Surely they used the cheap alarm system for window dressing. The real magic took place inside the house, AFTER an intruder dared to enter.

'Doesn't matter,' she thought. 'I've got nothing to lose anyway.'

And she didn't. Her pack was dead. Their killers left Amy severely injured. The little life growing inside of her was extinguished by the quick thrust of a machete into her abdomen. Amy was spared not because she was a female or because she was an alpha. Rather, she was allowed to live so she would be forced to bear the memory of her pack and her child's brutal slaying.

They were a small group but they were hers nonetheless. It was Amy, her two brothers, Ryan and Ben, and three others, one of which was the father of her unborn child. The pack was tight knit and loyal. The fateful night fourteen months earlier changed everything in an instant. Their murderers were forty strong and remarkably powerful. There was no worse fate than seeing your family sliced in half and living to tell the tale. None worse that Amy could imagine anyway.

She sighed, her brow crinkling in thought. She didn't want to hurt the inhabitants of the house. They were hunters, yes, but they had no part in killing her pack. She simply needed information that was all. It's not that she hadn't tried other avenues first. She'd called out to other packs for help, most recently one in Washington. None were too interested in even talking to an alpha without a pack, much less a female.

Not that werewolves were chauvinists. It was just that female werewolves were notoriously more powerful than the males. And an alpha female, especially one born that way, was highly respected, but also feared. Most packs didn't want to bother, especially the alphas. Few alphas wanted to play co-captain, which always perplexed Amy. Didn't they know a pack with two alphas was basically unstoppable?

In any case, she'd have to rely on the humans now. The hunters would lead her in the direction of more packs. Someone would eventually take her in. It's not that she'd die on her own. Alphas could survive without their packs but that's all it really would be, survival. Not living. She needed a family.

Of course, she knew she could always start a new pack. However, that would be an arduous exercise that would take many months to accomplish. There was seeking out a potential beta, feeling them out and getting to know them. They had to build mutual trust. She was lucky enough to have both of her brothers born wolves. The three others in her group were friends from a very young age that took years to decide to join the pack. Amy knew she'd never be that lucky again.

She steeled her will and decided that whatever lay beyond the security system was worth finding out where a potential new family was. She placed the pliers in the back pocket of her jeans, hoping she wouldn't be forced to use them on some unfortunate hunters fingernails. But she held on to them just in case.

Amy made quick work of the alarm and entered the house. It was close to two in the morning and the six members of the household were all unconscious from what she could gather. The first floor didn't produce anything she needed so she decided to try the next level. She smirked when she approached the trip wire at the bottom of the stairs. "Clever," she said quietly. "But not good enough." She sprung forward, clearing all thirteen steps and landed silently at the top of the staircase. She then continued her search for an office.

The first two rooms were sleeping quarters. Amy noted a little girl of about five dozing while clutching an enormous stuffed giraffe. She gazed at the tiny sleeping form. Her child had been a girl too, and would have been born wolf. She set her jaw, remembering why she came to the house.

She slipped away from the door to the little girls room and suddenly stopped short. She gulped. Someone was awake.

Amy moved soundlessly down the hallway and peeked into the last room on the right. The good news was she'd found the office. The bad news was that a very large man was currently parked at the computer, flanked by an impressive looking Beretta and a crossbow. She studied him, determining that he was tired and certainly not at his peak performance level. He also wasn't expecting visitors. 'Easy,' she said to herself.

In a matter of seconds, she'd slipped into the room unnoticed, grabbed the Beretta and slammed it into the man's head, knocking him out cold. As he lay on the floor with a nasty gash on the back of his head, she hopped on the computer. "Perfect," she said when she saw that his email was already open. No waiting for the computer to boot up, no pesky passwords to deal with and, most importantly, no need to use the pliers. She suddenly scolded herself for knocking the man out before making sure that his email was actually opened. She quickly shrugged it off, however. There was work to be done.

She flipped through the nearly fifty emails he had. Most were forwards about something funny or inspiring. The usual. However, one of them stood out. "Chris Argent," she said. "I know you." The Argents took to hunting in Washington on occasion. Amy had never met Chris but she'd heard many stories about him and his family. "So what's new, Chris?" she asked, opening the email.

It was a very long email for a man that she'd envisioned to be rather taciturn. "So Beacon Hills is where you've been hiding, ey?" She read further. "Derek Hale," she said. "My, you've been keeping busy."

Satisfied with the information she gathered, she returned to the email that the man was originally reading before she entered the room. Amy stood up, feeling a new sense of purpose. Next stop…Beacon Hills. And the first order of business was to pay a visit to one Derek Hale. Chris Argent revealed that he was snapping up people left and right for his pack. Amy sincerely hoped that he was in the market for an alpha female.

Of course the Argents presence in town would be a challenge but that was low on Amy's list of concerns. The lure of finding a new pack was too strong to deny. She took one last peek at the little girl on her way out. Someday that little girl would grow up to be a hunter herself, possibly even coming after Amy one day. But that day would be a long time coming. There was much to do in the meantime.


	2. Chapter 2

2

_***Hi all—I'm sorry for such a delay in posting. I got a promotion at work and I've taken on quite a bit more than I was doing in the past, so I have not had time to indulge in any writing lately. I'm going to veer this story off a bit to just after Abomination. I'd like to address the kanima issue in a slightly different manner than the show has. Let me know what you think. Oh and sorry for the heavy dialogue in this chapter. More action to follow…**_

"This sounds about as fun as a wet fart, Scott," said Stiles, sighing as the two young men strolled through the aisles at the grocery store. "You're lucky that I love you. You really are."

"Come on Stiles, it'll be fun. We'd be helping my mom out and she'll pay us," he said, smiling.

He crinkled his nose. "Parking cars and serving drinks to a bunch of hipsters and listening to them talk about the fifty thousand dollar preschool that their kids go to. So. Freaking. Awesome."

Scott chuckled. "Again, we'll be supporting my mom. This is the first big party she's thrown since my dad left. She's trying to get out and be sociable."

"Don't we have enough to worry about with the giant reptile that's rapidly decreasing the population of this town? Can't your mom go to dive bars like everyone else does?" asked Stiles.

Scott shook his head. "Look, Stiles, I know you do me a lot of favors. More than the average best friend does, but this is my mom, okay? I know we spend most of our time lurking in the shadows and trying to save people, but we're still human, you know? Well, you're human, I'm, like, half, I guess," he said shrugging. "But you get my point."

"I know," said Stiles, looking terribly frustrated. "It's just that this is piss poor timing if there ever was piss poor timing. Melissa can't wait until we're all safe from danger?"

"And when do you suppose that will be?" asked Scott. "There will always be danger. That's why we have to have fun when we can."

"Says the guy with the hot girlfriend that he's currently playing hide the potato with…"

"Stiles," said Scott, looking at him sternly.

Stiles sighed. "Okay I take it I'm not winning this one. I guess you're right about having fun and meeting new people. I could use some of that to be honest. I'm starting to admit to myself that I'll be a forty-year-old virgin. Upside? Strong forearms and the most prolific collection of porn on the planet." He smiled. "Hey, I think I may have actually just made myself feel better. See? There's always a silver lining. Although I'd have to be ambidextrous or else one forearm would be WAY TOO…"

"Stiles?" started Scott. "This discussion just took a dark turn. Let's steer it back to something less…ick."

Stiles giggled. "Sorry, okay um…" He looked down at the snacks. "Sour cream and onion or salt and vinegar?" he asked. "Or both? Oh, the choices! Who knew my Saturday night would hold such possibility?" After a few seconds without a response, he looked up at his friend, who appeared to be in deep thought. "Uh oh. Your spidey sense is tingling. What is it?"

"A wolf. A female. I can smell her," said Scott.

"She's in the store?" asked Stiles. "Erica maybe? God, I really hope not. Every time I see that girl, I feel like I got hit by a train, and not in a good way."

"No," said Scott. "She's got a different scent. Not like Derek's pack."

"Wait," said Stiles. "Different packs have different scents?"

Scott nodded. "It's because of the alpha. It's how they recognize each other."

"Cool," said Stiles. "But, wait, so the wolf chick currently wandering around Stop and Shop is from another pack," Stiles determined. "Two wolf packs in Beacon Hills could get dodgy. What do you think she'd be doing here?"

"I don't know," said Scott, looking nervous. "To go after the Argents maybe? Allison," he said, gulping.

Stiles clapped him on the shoulder. "Okay calm down Scott, don't go panicking. First off, if you'll remember, werewolves try to stay as far away from hunters as possible. I highly doubt a pack would seek out the Argents. If I had a guess I'd say it's the kanima. Maybe she's here to hunt it. I mean Derek seems to want it dead badly enough. Look, we don't know anything about her yet. Use that nose of yours to sniff out what aisle she's in and we'll talk to her."

"But she'll know I'm wolf," said Scott. "And that would lead her to Allison. M-Maybe we should just leave well enough alone."

"And risk putting Allison in danger?" asked Stiles. "Besides if she's a wolf she already knows you're here anyway." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "And she probably just heard this entire conversation, now that I think of it. So…hi lady wolf. I'm Stiles and this is Scott and we're currently in aisle six. Come on over and meet us! Maybe you can shed some light on the sour cream and onion versus salt and vinegar conundrum." Stiles smiled proudly at Scott. "She's probably on her way to us right now. Even I'm amazed at my own brilliance."

Scott took a deep breath. He listened for a few moments to the myriad of voices and heartbeats within the store, trying to somehow separate the she-wolf from the crowd. The din was enough to drive a normal person crazy but Scott had grown so used to it. Soon he heard a feminine giggle pierce the air. "Stiles sounds like a real character," she said. "Can't wait to meet you both. Oh, and salt and vinegar for sure."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"So, I'm guessing," said Amy as she approached the two young men. "That this one here with the mischievous honey browns…is Stiles," she said, smirking at Stiles.

"You are correct," said Stiles, blushing. "And you are?"

"I'm Amy," she said to both of them.

"I'm Scott," said Scott, always more reserved than his best friend.

They both observed the young woman for a moment, not quite sure what to make of her. She was petite. Downright tiny, in fact. Not at all like the wolf-woman they'd envisioned lurking among the aisles at the grocery store. Her appearance was rather comical due to her small stature. She wore heavy steel-toed boots, ripped, dirty blue jeans and an aging black leather jacket. Her rich, brown hair was still wet and she looked in good need of a hot shower and a visit to the nearest Laundromat. However, despite her road weary appearance, she boasted flawless porcelain skin, plump red lips and enormous, sparkly blue eyes. Stiles felt that she could probably clean up quite well indeed.

She felt both sets of eyes on her and the immediate need to explain. "I just drove on a motorcycle all the way from Washington," she said, blushing. "I don't want you to think I always look like I was rode hard and put away wet. Although I quite literally do right now, I understand."

Stiles moved in closer. "No worries. So Amy, since I'm sure you heard our entire discussion including my remarkably embarrassing virgin slash masturbation commentary, I guess you have a pretty good idea about what we're going to ask you."

"What are you doing here?" asked Scott.

Stiles pointed at Scott. "That would be the question, yes Scott."

Amy giggled and held up her basket. "Me? Buying cans of ravioli," she said, grinning.

"The Chef Boyardee ravioli?" asked Stiles, eyes wide with interest.

Amy nodded.

"That's my favorite," he said. "Did you get the super stuffed ones?"

"Of course," said Amy, laughing.

"Yeah, see I like those the best, too. Hey, have you ever tried the new fancy ones? They're so freaking good. They've got like a mozzarella and basil center and the sauce is kind of sweet. So awesome, oh and the…"

"Stiles," said Scott, sighing. "I meant what is she doing in Beacon Hills."

"I knew that," said Stiles. "We just went off on a ravioli tangent, that's all."

"In Stiles' defense it was an excellent ravioli tangent. Not many people can carry on a conversation about canned foods with so much enthusiasm," said Amy, smiling.

"Thank you," said Stiles, sticking out his tongue at Scott. "You're just mad because you didn't have any input on the topic, and okay, now you're glaring at me so I'll shut up."

"Thank you, " said Scott. "So Amy like I was asking you before…"

"I'm here to find Derek Hale," she said matter-of-factly. "Are you in his pack, Scott?" she asked.

Scott and Stiles looked blankly at each other.

"It's just that you said I didn't smell like Derek's pack. Since I've never met him, I don't know what his scent would be or yours for that matter, so I was just thinking that maybe you were part of his pack, but you also said 'Derek's' pack and not 'our' pack, which would denote that you were possibly from a different pack and…" she started.

"Oh my God, seriously, you and Stiles could win a prize for uncontrollable rambling," said Scott, shaking his head.

"Thank you," said Stiles, looking genuinely proud.

Scott bit his lower lip in frustration. "Technically I'm Derek's beta but, well…"

"They've had some creative differences as of late," interjected Stiles. "So he's less 'technically' Derek's beta and more 'technically' an omega."

Amy's eyes widened. "You prefer to be alone? Scott, that's very dangerous. Look, I, well, I'd have to advise you, even if you and Derek don't get along, you really don't want to resort to being lone. That's a very difficult way to live. Unbearable in fact."

Scott shrugged. "I'm not heartbroken about it, and trust me, I'm not alone," he said, gesturing to Stiles.

Stiles put his arm around his friend and touched his chest. He batted his eyelashes. "You know Scott when you talk like that, it makes me…"

"Stiles!" said Scott, in a hushed whisper.

Amy couldn't help but giggle.

Scott turned back to her and sighed. "You said you never met Derek?"

"No," said Amy.

"Well once you meet him you'll understand why I've gone this route," said Scott.

"Yeah, 'huge douche bag pain in the ass' may only slightly crack the surface of the never-ending string of names Scott and I use to describe him," said Stiles. "I also like to use the words 'wanker' and 'pillock' but only when I'm in one of my British moods."

Amy burst out laughing. Stiles really was a trip. "And how often do you have these British moods, sir?" she asked in an English accent.

He smiled. "Well, my lady, it's usually right after I have a Cotswold cream tea with some scones and a quick putter around the garden. Then I take my bucket and spade to the shore,"

Amy's nose crinkled when she laughed. "Do you make sure to pack your pig snacks?"

"But of course!" said Stiles, tugging on his collar.

Scott looked up at the ceiling. "God? If you're up there, can you PLEASE make this stop?"

"I'm sorry Scott," said Amy, tugging on his sleeve. "Stiles and I will behave. Right Stiles?"

"I make no promises," said Stiles. "But I'll try."

"Thank you," said Scott, setting his jaw. "Why are you looking for Derek?"

She looked down and set her jaw. She'd have to say it sometime. "Simply put? My pack is dead. I'm lone, too."

"Dead?" asked Scott softly. "I'm so sorry."

Amy nodded. "Thank you. I lost my two brothers and three…" she gulped, thinking of her little one. "I'm sorry, four others."

"So you…were looking to join up with Derek or something?" asked Stiles.

"Yeah," said Amy. "I've gone to dozens of different packs in a little over a year and none would take me. Derek's really my last hope. Huge douche bag pain in the ass or not."

"Why wouldn't the other packs take you in?" asked Scott.

Amy stiffened. She didn't want to reveal her alpha status just yet. But she had to come up with something viable. "Remember those creative differences Stiles mentioned before? That's usually my issue, too."

Scott watched her for a moment. "Wow. I…I wish I could help you but,"

Stiles looked at her sympathetically. He suddenly interrupted Scott. "I can introduce you to Derek," he offered. "I can't guarantee anything, though. If he doesn't want to be found then I won't be much help."

"Stiles," said Scott. "What are you doing? You can't just stroll up to Derek and…"

"Come on Scott," said Stiles. "Not all wolves prefer to be without an alpha like you." He shrugged and looked at Amy. "Take it from a future forty-year-old virgin. It's no fun being alone."

"Stiles I would be very grateful if you did that for me," said Amy. "Can we meet tonight? Maybe around seven?" she asked.

"Sure," said Stiles. "And just so you know, I'm not doing this because you're hot. Because you are. But really it's just a goodness of the heart type of thing. And because you're a fellow anglophile."

Amy smiled brightly. "Thank you Stiles. I really appreciate that. And maybe on the way to meet Derek you can fill me in on this kanima." She then looked at Scott warily. "And the Argents."

Scott cringed. "Didn't miss one part of that conversation, did you?"

Amy shook her head and looked at Stiles. "I'm at the roach motel near the DPW building. I have the shakes just thinking about sleeping there. If I had a car I'd sleep in it. The bike doesn't offer much in the way of shelter."

"What kind of bike?" Stiles asked.

Amy smiled. "It's an Aprilia. And besides my clothes, jacket and boots it's the only thing I own outright. I don't even technically own the ravioli yet," she joked.

Stiles folded his arms across his chest. "So, where'd a broke werewolf get her hands on an expensive Italian sport bike?" asked Stiles with raised eyebrows.

"You know your bikes, Stiles. Nice," she said appreciatively. "But I think I'll save that story for tonight if you don't mind."

"Can't wait to hear it," said Stiles, smirking.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Damnit," Amy said, trying to juggle the cans of ravioli in her bag as she extracted the keys to the beautiful yellow and silver bike that sat waiting for her in the parking lot. "Hey baby," she said to the machine, moving to place the bag on one of the handlebars. She thought she'd just about had everything under control when the bag suddenly split open and all three cans took off like a bullets on her, veering their way towards a very expensive looking Porsche. "No, no, no!" she exclaimed, hoping to avoid a confrontation with the driver of such a luxury automobile.

Amy chased the cans, using her excellent reflexes to grab two in mere seconds. However, one moved just a little too fast for her. Luckily, there was a handsome blonde man that caught it just as he was exiting the driver's side of the Porsche. She stopped short upon seeing him. He had the most beautiful eyes and skin she'd ever seen. It was the kind of skin that gave his nose a sprinkling of freckles in the summer and his cheeks a ruddy glow on cold winter days or if he'd had a few drinks. She found herself having to catch her breath, and not because she had been running to chase the cans. He lifted the can up in his hand and regarded it with interest. He smirked at Amy. "This yours?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, giggling breathlessly. "I'm so sorry. It just got away from me."

"No worries," he said, in a deep, satiny voice. "Here you go," he said, handing her the can. He watched her with interest. "Does that happen to you a lot?" he asked.

She tucked her still damp dark hair behind her ear. "What? Runaway cans?"

"No," he said with a silken smooth grin. "Things getting away from you."

She reddened and looked down, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Of all the days she had to meet such an attractive man was when she certainly wasn't looking her best. She felt like she would have looked better if she had been dipped in mud. "Wouldn't believe me if I told you."

He cocked his head to the side and gestured to the cans. "Your lunch I take it?"

"That was the plan," she said. "I guess the cans felt differently about the idea."

He smiled. "They probably knew they weren't that good for you anyway."

She nodded. "Well, when you're short on resources that's the way it goes."

"It doesn't have to be," he offered. "Not today anyway."

The way he looked at her gave her both an uncomfortable and pleasurable sensation at the same time. As much as she enjoyed the feeling of his eyes upon her, something was bothering her. His scent was wolf, but it was faint and masked with something else. But what? "What did you have in mind?" she asked.

"I was just running in to grab some things myself," he said. "I thought maybe you'd be interested in joining me for lunch."

"Oh?" she asked, suddenly even more interested. "What's on the menu?"

"Lobster macaroni and cheese," he said, grinning. "And some tiramisu for dessert."

Amy's mouth watered. That sounded much better than cold ravioli, which, if history was any indicator, would most likely eaten right out of the can with a plastic fork. "What's the occasion?"

He swallowed hard but recovered quickly with another heart melting smile. "It's my birthday today, believe it or not."

"Oh," she said, brightening. "Happy Birthday! What's the big number?"

"Seventeen," he said.

"And you're making your own birthday meal?" she asked. "You want to be a chef or something someday?"

He nodded and smiled. "Shhh…Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to protect."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of," she started. "A chef is a perfectly good profession."

"Well, according to my father it's…you know what? Let's not get into that. It's my birthday and I'm determined to stay in a good mood. So I'm hoping you'll leave the ravioli behind and let me cook for you," he said.

She shivered, only partly from the cold weather. "I'm not exactly dressed for it. I wasn't expecting to be invited to be someone's lunch companion, especially on their birthday of all things."

"I wasn't expecting to do the inviting," he said. "Funny how a beautiful blue-eyed girl can change my mind in an instant."

She blushed and chuckled. "Yeah? She must have run off before I showed up." She cleared her throat. _Beautiful blue-eyed girl?_ Was he mentally ill? She caught a glimpse of herself in the Aprilia's driver's side mirror. She'd just driven twelve straight hours in the rain. She sported zero makeup. Her hair was still slightly wet and hung from her shoulders like a wilting spider plant. Her riding jacket was a mess of cracked and peeling leather. In her opinion, she was less 'beautiful blue-eyed girl' and more 'girl that crawled out of a drain'.

She was suddenly entirely grateful to have been lucky enough to sneak into the Beacon Hills Medical Center unnoticed to use the bathroom of an unoccupied room to clean up a little before heading to the market that morning. Otherwise, the situation would be even worse. "You're very sweet, but it's total bullshit. I look like I got hit by a garbage truck."

He laughed heartily. "I wouldn't go that far, honestly. You've just had a ride in the rain, that's all. You still look great to me."

She shrugged. "Thank you," she said, softly.

He placed his hand on the small of her back. "Come back inside with me. You can help me pick out the ingredients and tell me a little about yourself. Starting with your name," he said, looking at her expectantly.

She bit her lower lip nervously. Amy was suddenly aware that she'd never been shy around a guy before. This one was very different, however. She paused, looking at the gorgeous young man warily. Again, the scent of wolf tickled at her nose. She wondered if he could sense her true nature as well. Did he not detect her scent? If he could, he was hiding it well.

"Okay, I'll go first then," he said, benevolently. "I'm Jackson," he said, extending his hand. "And you are…?" he asked again.

She took it. "Jackson. Nice to meet you. I'm Amy."


	3. Chapter 3

3

*Hi there—I'm surprised at the length of this chapter. I guess I had a lot to say, LOL. I embellished a bit on Jackson's house. I was surprised to see that he lived across the way from Isaac, whose house was very modest. Oh well, hopefully you like. And ah, Derek…He's going to string poor Amy along a bit. But he'll, of course, look good doing it. Okay enough chit chat from me. Have a good one!

She followed him to his house on her bike, enjoying the twists and turns of the rural roadways. Jackson stayed at a moderate speed in order to avoid losing her. Had she been alone, she'd have lain heavy on the accelerator and pushed her speed and balance to their ultimate limits. She always felt so free on the bike. Every care and worry slipped through her fingers like fine sand when she was able to feel the rumble of the machine beneath her, controlling its every move with her own strength.

The day remained chilly and damp, as the sun stayed hidden behind a veil of thick, grey clouds. Amy enjoyed passing by the several horse farms that dotted the landscape. Each horse had on a protective shawl to protect them from the elements. It was then that she realized it had been quite some time since she felt warm in any way. The market was heated, but she'd been in there only briefly and it wasn't enough time to dry her hair or her socks and the bottoms of her jeans. It only made her realize even more that she wasn't ready for a lunch date with a guy that she was quickly developing a massive crush on.

Jackson grinned as he peeked at her through the rearview mirror. He secretly wished he had been the one following her, loving the way her little behind sat propped on the seat of the bike. The view would have been much more fun had the tables been turned. She was certainly appealing despite being road weary. He could tell she felt self-conscious and he decided to make it a point to make her comfortable once they arrived at his house. He was actually quite looking forward to spending the afternoon with her and was suddenly very happy to have declined the offer to go to Napa with his parents. Jackson was quickly becoming smitten with the blue-eyed girl.

There was, of course, the reality that she was a werewolf. For some strange reason, she hadn't brought that fact into the open. Jackson knew he carried the scent, but he was unsure of what he really was anyway. He was certain she could detect it in him just as he had in her. His senses were heightened, but he hadn't made the complete change. Not yet. He thought perhaps he'd bring up the topic during their meal, depending on how well the pair hit it off. Seeing her long hair being taken by the wind in the rearview mirror, he hoped that things would go in his favor.

He turned into a neighborhood that boasted enormous luxury houses and when they pulled into the front of the tree-lined driveway of 1129 Stoneledge Drive, Amy noted Jackson's was no exception. In fact, his looked to be the priciest. It was an expansive estate with enormous windows and a carriage house on the eastern end of the property. She steered the bike next to him and hesitated, feeling really nervous at that point. She pulled off her helmet. "Jackson are you sure you want…"

He approached her with that smile of his and she immediately forgot what she was saying mid-sentence. She looked up at the enormous front door and gulped. "Are your parents home?"

"No," he said. "They won't be back for about a week. They're in Napa."

"Oh," she said, now suddenly extremely anxious. "So it's just the two of us then?"

He got closer to her. "Yes it is. Lucky me," he said, smiling.

She laughed nervously. "You're sweet."

"I'm honest. Come on inside," he said, tugging on the sleeve of her jacket. "You need to warm up."

It was true. Her feet felt like popsicles and the tips of her hair were actually frozen. "That would be most excellent," she said, smiling.

The front room was elegant and spacious. It boasted hand laid Brazilian black walnut floors and a stairway that swept and curved to the second floor. Jackson gave her a quick tour that included a theater with a pub style bar, a main floor study, gourmet kitchen, his bedroom, and the master suite, where he insisted she stay while he cooked. "Take a hot shower," he offered. "And please put on some dry clothes. My mom's got a closetful of stuff and she's a little peanut like you so everything should fit."

She shook her head. "Oh Jackson that's very generous of you, but I couldn't. I mean it's your mom's stuff. I doubt she wants me rifling through her closet. I don't feel right about that."

He looked down at her jeans, wet to the knee and caked in mud. "She wouldn't miss half the things she's got and you need to be comfortable. I insist. Please."

"Um," she started, looking around the luxurious suite. "Okay. I just need to grab my bag off the bike."

Soon, she was reveling in a hot steam shower, rinsing off the grit and grime of the previous twenty-four hours. Her once frozen toes felt amazing and she enjoyed the sensation of the hot water streaming through her long hair and running in rivulets down her back.

When she emerged from the shower, she heard a crackling sound. She peeked out of the bathroom door and saw that Jackson had started a fire for her. Amy smiled at the glow of the warm and inviting fireplace. She wrapped herself in a thick robe and lay down on the rug that was made from soft alpaca fur. It made her think of the warm spring days she'd spent on her grandparent's farm, shearing the alpacas and selling the fur to the many interested buyers. There was one named Izzy that she loved the most. He was golden colored and good-natured. Soon, Amy began to drift into a deep sleep, dreaming of Izzy and how she used to rub his nose with her knuckles.

Amy awoke to someone gently stroking her hair. She slowly opened her eyes, forgetting where she was for a moment. But she quickly remembered when she gazed into the Mediterranean blue eyes of Jackson, who was lying on the floor next to her. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," she said, still in a dream state. "So pretty," she said, referring to his bright eyes. She bit her lip in embarrassment right after she said it.

"What?" he asked, giggling. "What's so pretty?"

"Sorry," she said, blushing. "Your eyes. I was saying your eyes were so pretty and now my face is all red."

He smiled. "They're not nearly as pretty as yours Amy."

She liked hearing him say her name. "Thank you. You have a way of not making me feel like a total dufus so I appreciate that."

"Well hopefully you're a hungry dufus because everything's ready," he said, grinning.

She wanted to grab him and kiss him more than anything but her stomach protested. She hadn't eaten in nearly two days and the smell of the food downstairs was extremely enticing. "I'm definitely hungry," she said. "I just have to get dressed."

He didn't want her to. In fact, it was all he could do not to tug on the belt of her robe, revealing her soft, naked skin. He wanted to nuzzle into her neck and nibble on her smooth shoulders. Her full lips were so tempting. He struggled, thinking of how warm her petite frame was and how good it would feel to have her on top of him. However, he held back. He'd only met her that day and didn't want to break her trust. "Okay," he said, reluctantly standing up. "I'll see you in a few."

"Thank you by the way. For the fire," she said, sitting up. "It was nice to be warm and actually get some sleep."

"I aim to please," said Jackson. "And hopefully you feel the same way about my cooking."

She smiled. "I'm sure I will." When he left she stood up and went to the closet. She felt foolish going through his mother's things, but the allure of dry clothing called to her. She looked around and noted that Jackson had hung up her jacket and taken her dirty clothes, perhaps to wash them. Amy searched her bag and rejoiced when she found another pair of clean panties and a bra. After putting them on, she chose a tan cowl neck sweater and a pair of jeans from the closet. She slipped on a pair of thick socks and padded down the stairs and into the kitchen.

He smiled when he saw her. "Not bad at all." He placed a steaming bowl of lobster macaroni and cheese on the counter. "Come sit."

Amy took a seat on a barstool and had to fight the urge to shove her face directly in the bowl. She waited for him to take a spot next to her before she lifted up her fork. When she finally dug in, she made a series of appreciative groans. "Oh my God," she said. "You have some serious talent. I'm quite certain this is the best thing I've ever tasted."

He laughed. "I'm glad you like it. Chefs get off on people enjoying their food. I'm no exception."

"Well then you must be a happy boy because I'm loving the hell out of this," she said, trying her hardest not to eat too fast.

"Thank you," he said.

"No, thank YOU," she said. "So have you thought about which culinary schools you're going to apply to?"

He looked taken aback. "Sorry," he said. "I've just never actually talked about this with anyone before. My mom made a joke about it the other day and my father, well, let's just say he didn't find it funny."

"Your dad wants you to be in a different career," said Amy. "So you'll have a house like this someday. Like him?"

Jackson shook his head. "Actually, my mom's the bread winner of the family. She's the corporate vice president of a biotech firm. My dad does well, but he's not on her level by far. He's an attorney."

"Why does he give you a hard time about cooking?" she asked.

Jackson swallowed. "Because he knows me too well."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I'm…how do I put this gently? I'm extremely hard on myself. The old adage of 'failure is not an option' was made for me. It's basically my philosophy. My dad knows that very few chefs can rise through the ranks and make a lot of money and be successful. He's just trying to prevent me from beating myself up if I don't get to the level that I want," he said.

"But I don't understand," she said. "Don't you love cooking?"

"More than anything," he said. "I know it sounds funny but I really feel like myself when I'm in the kitchen."

"Then you've already gained all the success you need," she said.

He looked thoughtful. "That's very true. I hadn't thought of it that way."

"Why do you think you're so hard on yourself, Jackson?" she asked.

"Well," he said, putting his fork down. "My parents feel it's because I was adopted and that I'm trying to gain the acceptance of my birth parents."

Amy searched his eyes. "And what do you think?"

"I think," he said. "That maybe they're right."

"Have you thought about ever finding your birth parents?" she asked.

"At times I have," he said. "I just don't know what to expect, you know? I have all these thoughts like what if we don't along or that they're both complete jerks or losers or something, you know?"

"Well you have two great parents anyway," said Amy. "I'd be happy with that."

"Are you close with your parents?" Jackson asked.

She looked down. "I used to be. But they passed away four years ago."

"I'm sorry," said Jackson. "Do you have any other family?"

"No," she said, quietly. "My two brothers died a little over a year ago. My grandparents have been gone awhile as well. It's just me and the bike."

Jackson studied her. "That's awful. You must think I'm a total dick. I've been complaining about my two sets of parents and here you've got no one. I'm really sorry."

"Please don't feel bad. I like talking about you. I want to know all things Jackson," she said, smiling.

"I want to know about you too," he said. He looked down at his bowl. "And now's as good a time as any."

"For what?" she asked.

"To address the huge pink elephant in the room," he said.

She bit her lower lip. The whole 'I'm a werewolf' thing made her hesitant. "I'm afraid to. You first."

He cleared his throat. "You're different. We both are. I know you sense it. I can. I caught your scent earlier. You're wolf."

She nodded. "I am."

"When were you bitten?" he asked.

"I wasn't," she said. "I was born this way. You were bitten though, weren't you?"

"Just recently," he said.

"Derek Hale?" she asked.

His eyes widened. "How do you know who Derek is?"

"He's why I came to Beacon Hills," she said. "I'm without a pack. I was hoping he'd take me in."

Jackson leaned closer to her. "I don't think you want to do that."

"Why?" she asked.

"He's…unpleasant to say the least," said Jackson.

"Is he the one that bit you?" asked Amy.

"Yes," said Jackson.

"So you're without a pack too?" she asked.

"I am," he said. "I'm not about to be Derek's lackey. He's got enough of those with that crack team he's got with him now."

"But what about Scott?" she asked. "Why don't you guys stick together?"

"You know Scott McCall too?" he asked. "You've been busy for such a short amount of time in town."

"I met him by accident actually. Him and Stiles."

"McCall and I aren't bosom buddies," said Jackson. "I mean I've grown to respect him but we don't mesh. Even though we co-captain the lacrosse team," he said, chuckling.

She placed her fork in her bowl. "I'm…an alpha," she said.

He watched her for a moment. "What happened to your pack?"

"They were killed. I was spared. As alpha there's no worse punishment than having your pack taken away. It must kill Derek that you and Scott have rejected him," she said.

Jackson shrugged. "He's fine. He's got three idiots that do everything he says."

She sighed. "Sounds like a fun bunch."

"Amy I don't get it. If you're alpha, why not just create your own pack? I literally got on my hands and knees and begged for the bite. I'm sure there's no shortage of people who would do the same," he said.

"It's complicated," she said. "As in very."

"Understood," he said.

"Jackson, there's something that's been bothering me," she said. "Have you not fully made the change?"

"No," he said, looking down. "I have some abilities, but they're limited. My senses are heightened. I'm stronger. Otherwise, nothing. Derek thinks my body is rejecting the bite, like it's fighting off a virus or something."

"Did the bite heal?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Right away."

She cocked her head to the side. "Interesting."

"My ex, Lydia, was bitten by Derek's uncle Peter, the old alpha. Her bite didn't heal and she never changed. I thought maybe because we were…together that maybe she passed on some immunity to me or something," he said.

She knew that wasn't possible, but she nodded. "Maybe."

He looked at her empty bowl. "Ready for dessert?"

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Stiles? Hey it's Amy. Werewolf Amy from Stop and Shop," she said into the phone.

She heard Stiles giggle on the other end. "Hi werewolf Amy. You almost ready for your big meet and greet with Derek?"

"Ready Freddy. Hey listen, I'm not at the motel. Can I give you another address to come get me?" she asked.

"Sure," he said. "You find better digs or something?"

She looked around the master suite. "You could say that."

"Okay so where am I going?" he asked.

"It's 1129 Stoneledge Drive, it's this big ass estate right near the…"

"Amy, hold up. You're at Jackson Whittemore's?" asked Stiles. "How did you end up there?"

She laughed. "It's just one of those things," she said. "You see today's his birthday and…"

"Please tell me you didn't give him a special present," said Stiles.

"No. No presents were given Stiles. Perv," she joked.

"Good, because I can't freaking stand that guy," said Stiles.

"Does anyone in this town get along?" she asked, laughing. "Everyone hates Derek. Jackson's not wild about Scott. You hate Jackson. What's the deal?"

"The deal is that he's a…"

"Yeah, yeah, another douche bag pain in the ass?" she asked.

"Pretty much," said Stiles.

"Well I think he's cool," she said.

"You just think he's hot," said Stiles. "His allure will wear off once he gets his attitude."

"I don't know about that," said Amy. "What'd he ever do to you to piss you off so much?"

"Dated my dream girl for two years and then dumped her via text message," said Stiles.

"Ouch," said Amy. "That is pretty bad. I can't picture him doing something like that. He just seems so…so…"

Stiles sighed. "You know what's sad? I can tell how much you like him over the phone."

Amy giggled. "Oh stop. I like you too."

"Yeah but unfortunately not in a 'special birthday present' kind of way," he said.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Take good care of her," Jackson said as Amy got into the Jeep. "Be careful and don't drive like you normally do either."

"Yeah, sure okay Dad. Anything else?" asked Stiles, sneering at Jackson.

Jackson smirked before leaning in and kissing Amy on the cheek. "One more thing. Be sure to bring her back here, not the fleabag motel she's planning on sleeping in tonight."

"Jackson, I…" started Amy.

"No arguments," Jackson said, kissing her again. "I'm serious," he said.

"Hey, you got any gum?" asked Stiles. "I need something that will wash away the taste of vomit."

Jackson chuckled before looking back at Amy. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. "I can go with you."

"I'm sure," she said. "And, no, I think it would go up Derek's ass sideways if you came with us. But thank you for offering."

"Okay, but remember you were warned about him," said Jackson.

"By several people," added Stiles.

She sighed. "I know. I'm asking for it, I understand. But I have to try."

Stiles stuck his tongue out at Jackson as he pulled the Jeep around the circular driveway. "You've known him one day and already he's all 'be careful' and kissing you and got you sleeping at his house tonight? Man, I have got to get him to teach a class or something."

Amy laughed. "Down boy." She held up something wrapped in tin foil. "I got you a present," she said in a sing-song voice.

"Oooh," said Stiles. "Is that a present of the food variety?"

"Yes sir," she said, handing it to him.

"My favorite kind," he said, taking the package and peeling the tin foil away. His eyes widened. "Blondies! I love these," he said, taking a large bite of the cookie. "Hmmm, so good," he said, his mouth full of the sweet dessert.

She giggled. "Yeah, Jackson made…I mean his mom made them the other day."

"Jackson's mom for President," said Stiles.

"Thank you again for doing this, Stiles," she said.

"Hey it got me out of Scott's mom's party. Well, for awhile anyway. He's called me about ten times making sure I'm coming over right after I drop you back off at Jackson's later," said Stiles.

"So Derek was willing to come out of hiding for me?" Amy asked.

"I texted him earlier," said Stiles. "At first he told me to go fuck myself but when I brought you up he was suddenly intrigued."

"Intrigued?" Amy asked. "That sounds promising."

"I still think this is a massive mistake but if you're happy…" he started.

"I don't know if 'happy' is a good word but I'll be pleased if he takes me in without an argument," she said.

"Well he's ornery. And with this whole kanima business he's been a real bitch," said Stiles. "I mean, I save the guys life and nearly drown in the process and then he tells me to go pound sand when I text him asking him to meet. What the hell?"

"So the kanima," started Amy. "Do you know who it is?"

"No, I…Wait, you know it's a person?" Stiles asked. "Have you dealt with something like this before?"

"Not me but my parents did," she said.

"So you know how to kill it?" asked Stiles.

"Not kill it. Cure it," she said.

"It can be cured?" asked Stiles. "Holy shit, maybe you'll be much more useful to Derek than we previously thought. If you help him with the kanima, maybe he'll be willing to return the favor in kind."

"I hope so," she said quietly as Stiles steered the Jeep into an industrial park. She rolled down her window and caught the scent of two wolves, one male and one female. The female was slightly anxious for some reason. It was possible that she and the male were an item and she was none too happy to have another girl added to the mix. In any event, she was sure that both wolves could sense Amy's anxiety right off the bat. Her heart was pounding in her ears as Stiles pulled up in front of what appeared to be an abandoned machine shop. The windows were covered by dirty screens and sported a rusty metal door, its orange paint nearly completely peeled off.

"Well it's certainly got curb appeal," said Stiles. "I mean add a little paint and some potted plants and this could be featured in Better Homes and Gardens."

Amy shook her head. "If I didn't smell wolves I'd think you brought me here as a joke," said Amy.

"Wolves plural?" asked Stiles. "I thought he'd be alone for this visit."

"He's with a female," said Amy, getting out of the Jeep.

"Oh terrific," said Stiles sarcastically. "That would be Erica."

They walked around to the rear of the building as Derek had instructed Stiles to do in an earlier text. Stiles opened the door for Amy and the two stepped in. They looked around, not seeing Derek or Erica. Amy observed some kitty litter on the floor that had been used to soak up some spilled oil. Several fifty-five gallon drums sat in front of a shelf containing cutting oils. The smell didn't agree with her. However, the familiar scent of wolves gave her comfort.

"Derek," called Stiles. "I know how much you love to play hide and seek but you have company. Don't be rude." He turned back to Amy. "You look nice by the way," he said. "I didn't tell you in the car but a big improvement over this morning," he said looking at her appreciatively.

She smiled. "Thanks Stiles." She sensed movement and turned towards it. A dark shadow appeared before her. She watched as it took the shape of a tall, muscular man. His eyes glowed red as he emerged from the darkness. A buxom blonde girl stepped out behind him. She looked at Amy with interest.

"Ah, there we go," said Stiles. "Evenin' Derek. Erica," he said, nodding to them. "This is Amy."

Derek moved soundlessly towards Amy. He was remarkably powerful and Amy guessed he was born wolf. The girl, however, was not. Derek dialed back the red, revealing piercing green eyes. He cocked his head to the side in interest. "You're an alpha," he declared.

Stiles blinked in surprise. He looked at Amy. "You are?" he asked.

Amy nodded. "Yes," she said, not taking her eyes from Derek's.

"You were born alpha too," said Derek. "That's quite rare."

"Well we alphas have to come from somewhere," she said, softly.

He smiled. "That's true." He looked back at Erica. "Take a walk with Stiles. I want to speak to Amy alone."

Erica obeyed and began to walk towards Stiles, who reached out and took Amy's arm. "Will you be okay?" he asked softly.

She smiled at him. "Yes. Thank you."

Stiles nodded and looked at Erica warily. "You um, do you like Blondies? I've got some in the Jeep. They're really good. Please don't punch me in the face."

Erica playfully kicked Stiles in the behind as they walked out the back door. "I like anything sweet, Stiles. And I could use something to nibble on."

Amy felt Stiles' heart rate increase at Erica's risqué comment and she couldn't help but giggle. "She's a little spitfire," said Amy. "Are you two an item?"

"No," said Derek. "She's my beta. I don't shit where I eat."

"That's smart," said Amy. "I did and I ended up pregnant."

Derek furrowed his brow. "You have a child?" he asked.

"Not anymore," she said. "She was killed, along with my pack."

Derek looked to the floor. "I'm so sorry. Hunters I assume."

She stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets and walked around the old shop, not willing to explore the topic any further. "So this is where you live?" she asked. "Where's the rest of your pack? I can smell two other males."

"They're out for the night," said Derek. "I would have sent Erica with them but she's more of a homebody. She doesn't like to be away from me for too long."

"She's a good beta, then. That must make you happy," she said.

"I'm very pleased with her so far," said Derek. "The other two leave something to be desired but they were only recently bitten. It will take some work to get them where I want them to be. They weren't blessed with good genetics like we were after all," he said, smiling.

She smiled back at him. He didn't seem like the jerk that everyone had made him out to be. Hopefully his good nature would carry into the possibility of him taking her in.

"You were with Jackson earlier," he said, able to smell him on her.

"Yes," she said.

"I'm sure he gave me a glowing review," said Derek. "And Scott, well…"

Amy laughed. "They're not your biggest fans, no."

He moved swiftly towards her and backed her up against the wall, burying his face in her neck. The gesture didn't make her nervous, as it was normal alpha male behavior. He took in her scent and ran his fingers through her hair. "When is your next heat?" he asked softly.

"Summer," she whispered. That question did make her nervous. It would mean he'd want to take advantage of her fertile period, something she wasn't willing to let happen. Not with the possibility of Jackson being in the picture anyway. She decided to keep that little tidbit to herself, however. She was meeting with Derek to sell herself, after all. If she voiced her reluctance to mate with him, then there was a good chance that he'd tell her to go to hell.

"Good," he said. "That's only eight or nine months off." He placed his hands on her hips and squeezed gently. "You're a tiny little thing. But probably a lot tougher than you look."

"I try," she said.

"So two alphas in one pack," said Derek. "That could be risky."

"Actually a two alpha pack is about as powerful as they come. We'd be a force to be reckoned with," she said. "And with the Argents in town it sounds as if I'm just what your pack needs."

"You know about the Argents, huh? I'm guessing you got filled in on the kanima as well," he said.

"Briefly," she said. "I can be a big help with that situation."

"Can you?" he asked, moving his hands up her back. "How helpful?"

"I can help you catch and cure him or her. Is that helpful enough?" she asked.

"Cure?" he asked. "That's an interesting new development." He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Okay," he said, moving away from her only slightly. "That would be great. We can get started tomorrow."

"What about the real reason I came here?" she asked. "I didn't just come to talk about the kanima."

He used his fingertips to trace a line starting from her chin, down between her breasts to her belly button. "Oh that? I'm still undecided. I want to see what you've got first. If I take in a female, an alpha female no less, she'd better be worth it. In every sense. Do you follow?"

She looked deep into his green eyes and nodded.

It was a start.


	4. Chapter 4

4

_***This chapter's not for the kiddies. Have a good one!**_

Amy stifled a laugh as she exited the shop's back door. Erica had Stiles pinned up against the driver's side door of his Jeep and, judging by his heart rate and pheromone levels, he was desperately trying to hide how much he was actually enjoying it. Amy took slight pity on him when she saw the beads of perspiration on his forehead. The cool night caused the air to condense in puffs around his rapid breaths.

"Just in time Amy," he squeaked out, as Erica reluctantly broke free from him.

The young werewolf female playfully pouted when she realized that the pair was no longer alone. "Looks like we're going to have to do a rain check, Stiles," she purred. "I was looking forward to some time alone with you."

Stiles laughed nervously and got himself together as best as he could. "I, sure, yeah, I mean the less time you spend hitting me about the face, the better. So…anytime."

Erica grinned and turned to Amy. "So what's the word? Are you the new boss lady?" she asked excitedly.

"No. Not yet anyway. I'm sort of on a trial period I guess you'd say," said Amy, shrugging.

Erica frowned. "Why? I thought it was going to make things better with you here."

Amy walked closer to Erica and Stiles. "It would for sure. I just have to help figure out what's going on with the kanima and I think my chances might actually be good."

Erica brightened. "Good because I need you here. It's a total sausage fest in that pack." Truth be told, Amy fascinated Erica. During some of their quieter times together, Derek would tell Erica about his sister, Laura, who was once an alpha herself. Erica simply loved to hear about the immense power that a female alpha wielded. She felt as if she could learn many things from Amy, and perhaps even establish a close friendship with her. Erica was terribly lonely, despite being constantly surrounded by her pack, a side effect, most certainly, of being the only female. She sincerely hoped that Derek would take Amy in.

"I'm glad you feel that way," said Amy, smiling. "Maybe you can lay a little influence down on Derek if the mood strikes."

Erica grinned and looked back at Stiles. "Speaking of the mood striking, where are you two headed tonight?" she asked.

Stiles stiffened. "I'm taking Amy back to Jackson's and I have to help out at Scott's mom's party."

"I love parties!" said Erica. "Can I come help you?"

"I, well, um…are you sure? It's not exactly a party, per se. It's more like a bunch of people way outside our tax bracket talking about the most boring shit possible," said Stiles.

Erica walked over to Stiles and playfully tugged his left ear. "Well, we can make it fun," she cooed. "Can't we?"

Stiles gulped and Amy pretended to cough to hide her laugh. "Derek claims you're a homebody," said Amy, smiling.

Erica loved that she was amusing Amy so much. "Most of the time I am. But, if something's worth it, I make it a point to come out and enjoy myself."

Stiles looked at Amy with eyes as big as sand dollars. He was quite obviously pleading for help. "Um, Erica, why don't you run in and tell Derek that you'll be out for awhile. We'll wait for you outside," said Amy.

Erica cheerfully skipped into the shop and Stiles finally took his first, full deep breath. "Oh my God, what am I going to do? First she beats the ever loving crap out of me and stuffs me into a dumpster and now she wants frikking alone time with me? What the hell? Amy, you cannot, and I mean, CANNOT leave me alone with her, okay? I'm serious, you don't understand. I mean…"

"Stiles, settle," said Amy, taking him by the shoulders. "Look, I can tell by her scent that she's totally into you. I think she's way past the shoving you into a dumpster phase."

"Wait, what? She's INTO ME? Me? As fast as humanly possible please explain this to me as I'm about to have this girl in my car in twenty-five seconds or less," he begged.

"Okay we all have a pheromone signature, human and wolf alike. Werewolves can smell if someone's lusting after someone else and trust me, it's like she's dipped herself in a vat of desire when you're around," said Amy. "She wants you."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" asked Stiles, nervously.

"What I'm saying is, you really don't want me as chaperone because there is a good chance that after tonight you will never have to worry about being a forty-year-old virgin again. Or you'll at least get yourself into a quite respectable place on the baseball diamond. You catch my drift, Stilinski?" she asked.

His eyes widened and he shuddered. "Is it normal for me to be so nervous that I want to throw up?"

"Actually, yes, totally," said Amy, giggling. "Just try to refrain from doing it in front of her. Kills the mood."

"Got it," said Stiles.

Erica emerged from the back door of the shop and ran to the Jeep. "Pops is letting me out for the night," she said cheerfully. "So I'm all yours," she said to Stiles.

He nervously cleared his throat several times before finally going to the passenger side door and letting both Amy and Erica in. Stiles noted that Erica chose to ride shotgun, and that she'd changed from a pair of black jeans to a body hugging purple mini-dress and a pair of boots. "You look n—uh, really good. Stunning, actually," he said, trying to keep his eyes on the road and off of her curvaceous legs.

"Thank you," she said, smiling. "That's very sweet of you Stiles."

"I try," he choked out.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

As they pulled up in front of Jackson's house, Erica smirked. "Poor little rich boy."

Stiles waved his finger at Erica. "Now don't go insulting your possible new alpha's man, Erica."

Erica turned to the back seat and looked at Amy, surprised. "New man, huh? Well as looks go, he's a wise choice. Quite yummy, in fact. But Jackson's not exactly a cuddly little puppy, Amy."

Amy sighed. "So I've heard. But I've seen a different side of him."

"I'll bet," said Erica, giggling devilishly. "And the next time I see you, I want to hear every dirty detail."

Amy blushed. "If you're good."

"Fat chance," said Erica, laughing and touching Stiles' knee. Stiles jumped a country mile and quickly rolled down his window for some fresh air.

Amy noted the exchange and made a move to get out of the car. After Erica let her out, Amy leaned into the passenger side window. "Hey you two be careful tonight. The kanima is attracted to places where people gather in large groups. If Scott's mom has a boatload of people over from Beacon Hills, then there's a possibility, albeit small, that the kanima will show up."

Erica leaned over and gently scratched the back of Stile's neck. "I'll keep my eyes peeled and make sure Stiles stays safe."

Stiles shivered. "Amy I'll call you if I see anything odd. Here," he said, texting Amy Scott's address. "If something goes down you'll know where to go."

Actually, Amy would have been able to find Scott's house by simply tracking both Stiles' and Erica's scents, but she thanked him just the same and strolled to Jackson's front door. She waved as the Jeep pulled away and slipped the key into the front door, which Jackson gave to her before she left.

It was nearly eleven in the evening by the time she slipped into the house. Amy hadn't realized how long she and Stiles stayed at the shop with Derek and Erica. The downstairs was mostly dark but Jackson left a few select lamps on. She ascended the stairs to his bedroom, stopping short at the door when she didn't see him there. She could detect his scent in the house and, upon taking a few steps further down the hall she determined he was in the master suite, where she had planned to spend the night.

Her heart began to thrum in anticipation as she slid open the door to the grand room. The fire was once again lit and going strong. Jackson lay on the alpaca rug in his lacrosse shorts and a white t-shirt. He managed to look both angelic and seductive as he slept soundly on his back, right hand resting on his stomach. She gulped, trying to be quiet. As much as she desired him, she wasn't exactly ready to find him in her sleeping quarters.

She pulled her sweater and jeans off, draping them at the edge of the king sized bed. Next, she unhooked her bra and slipped it off while keeping her tank top on, an old trick every girl learns in junior high school. Wearing just a tank and panties, she peeled away the heavy comforter and slid her tiny frame inside of it. Amy watched Jackson from the bed, enjoying the sound of his soft breathing. The heat of the fire felt wonderful on her face. Soon, she was lulled her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Amy suddenly awoke when she felt a warm, strong body slide next to hers. It was Jackson. Their bare legs touched under the covers. He placed his right arm over her waist and pressed against her. "I'm sorry I fell asleep on you," he said.

"It's okay," she said. "I didn't want to wake you. You looked so..."

"So what?" he whispered.

"Peaceful," she said quietly.

She could feel him smile against her forehead after he'd kissed her there. "How did it go?" he asked. "Are you an official member of Derek's pack?"

"No," she said. "I'm being test driven, so to speak."

"Ah," he said. "I suppose he wants you to try to help him figure out this lizard thing?"

"The kanima," she said. "Yeah, he says if I help catch him or her then my chances are good."

"The lizard has a gender?" Jackson asked.

"It's actually a person," she said. "By day. But by night it transforms into the kanima."

Jackson thought for a moment. "Do you know who it is?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Not yet. But my parents have hunted them before. I actually remember a lot of what they told me. We should find it in no time."

"So how did you and Derek get along?" Jackson asked, eager to change the subject of the giant killer lizard.

"Pretty good if you'll believe it," she said. "He did the usual alpha male greeting. He was surprisingly gentle. The last three alpha males I've encountered all got so worked up they made the Change."

"What do you mean gentle?" asked Jackson, his voice with a tinge of concern. "Did he touch you?"

She looked up at him. "Yeah, but not, you know, anywhere inappropriate. He just did what alpha males usually do. Pushed me up against the wall, sniffed me, felt around to get a sense of my body. Nothing big."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I like the sound of that," he said. "Especially the 'feeling around your body' part."

"It's not like you think," said Amy. "It's just their way of trying to assert their dominance and to see if I'd make…well, nothing."

"What?" Jackson asked, stroking her hair. "Tell me. Please?"

Amy sighed. "It's to see if I'd make a good potential, ugh this is so embarrassing, _partner_ for mating purposes."

"What?" Jackson asked, incredulous. "You mean to tell me that he was kicking your tires to see if he wanted to sleep with you?"

She looked down, embarrassed. "Yeah. Kind of. Well, yes, that's what he was doing, yes."

"And what did he determine?" Jackson asked.

She bit her lip, willing herself to keep her mouth shut about Derek asking about her next heat. It would only serve to irritate Jackson. "Not sure yet," she said. "He's not much for over sharing."

Jackson watched her for a moment before she finally felt him relax. "Yeah he's pretty quiet. Infuriatingly so." Suddenly he smiled and she heard him giggle.

"What?" she asked, lifting her head from the pillow. "What's so funny?"

He touched her face. "Nothing it's just that Derek felt you up tonight and didn't give you too much of an indicator of how he felt about it. I'm laying next to you in bed and it's all I can do not to attack you."

She laughed nervously and laid her head back on the pillow, shying away from eye contact. He tucked his finger under her chin and lifted her back to his gaze. "You keep looking away from me. Do I make you nervous?"

"Very," she said. "But in the best way possible, I swear."

"Am I being too bold getting in bed with you?" he asked softly.

She shook her head, suddenly painfully aware that the only things separating them were a pair of panties and lacrosse shorts. Her heart started to pound again. This time he could hear it. "Is that me making your heart beat like that?" he whispered.

"Yes," she said. He was the only one she could recall that had ever made her heart do that. Not even her baby's father, Ash, brought her to that level. She and Ash had been friends since childhood, and when she'd gone into heat, they became caught up in the moment and stole away to be together. It was her first heat and she didn't quite understand how to control herself. She loved Ash, but was never in love with him. He couldn't make every part of her body tingle and heighten each of her senses to unimaginable peaks. Not the way Jackson could.

She felt his hand tighten on her lower back and he nuzzled into her neck. Amy could barely breathe when he began to place soft, hot kisses on her neck and bare shoulders. She leaned in and gently bit down on the skin just below his chin as she lightly scratched at the back of his neck. He crushed his lips against hers and she let out a small whimper. Their tongues searched each other's while Jackson got on top of her.

Amy slipped her hands under his t-shirt reveling in each taut muscle of his back. He pulled down a strap of her tank top, revealing a soft breast with a diamond hard nipple at its center. He traced the round nipple with his lips, his hot breath making her spine ignite with pleasure. Feeling emboldened, she tucked her hands under the waist of his shorts, feeling his solid behind. This made him groan and thrust his hips into hers. "Amy," he breathed.

Amy lifted his t-shirt off and got on her knees. Jackson followed suit and lay on his back. She straddled him, kissing and nibbling from his chest to his belly button, taking extra time on the area just above the waist of his shorts. Jackson felt his knees turn to jelly, knowing he'd let her do anything she pleased to him at that moment. With all the times that Jackson enjoyed being in control, this was one where he'd gladly let her dominate. She was perfect in his eyes and he felt as if he'd never truly get enough of her. He looked dreamily down at her when she rested her cheek on his tummy. She smiled at him. Jackson felt her place her hand on his left leg and start to work her way up. He groaned and tensed, his toes curling in anticipation.

Just then, the sound of her phone going off pierced the air. They looked at each other, both breathless. "The kanima," she said, suddenly, before she went to her jeans pocket to extract her phone. She looked at the screen. "Shit," she said. "Stiles? What's up?"

"Well I told you I'd call you if anything odd happened," said Stiles. "How's this for weird? How often do you think a guy gets crushed to death by his pet boa constrictor?"

"What?" Amy asked. "Never, unless the thing is like forty feet, wait, no, never. Not possible."

"Yeah, especially if said man's boa is, in fact, a little baby of just three feet, safely in his cage with a special safety lock on the top of it," said Stiles. "Gee, Ame, what else do we know that has a big old tail capable of breaking every bone in a grown man's body?"

"The kanima," said Amy, looking at Jackson with wide eyes.

"That's ten points for the lady wolf. Meet me down at the crime scene. Be extra stealthy, though. My dad's still down here. Erica, Scott and I are waiting in the woods for everyone to leave. Derek and the rest of the pack are en route. "And bonus? If you get here soon you can help me pull off the police tape," he said excitedly.

Amy nodded. "Okay Stiles just give me the address and I'll be there."


	5. Chapter 5

5

*So like I said I'm taking a slightly different turn with the kanima story line. Not too far from the beaten path but just my little spin. Thank you to everyone supporting this story. It means a lot. Have a nice week.

Derek gave Amy a scolding glance when she arrived at the crime scene. "What?" she asked with a shrug of her shoulders.

"You were with Jackson again," he said. "And judging by your scent the two of you weren't keeping it professional."

She prickled. "I'm sorry, but what business it that of yours to—?" she suddenly stopped short, remembering that she needed to be on best behavior with Derek. "It was a spur of the moment thing," she said. "I'm sorry."

He softened and reached for her, tracing her belly button with his index finger. "I'm not mad Amy. You think I haven't been tempted by Erica in the past?" He got close enough to where she could feel his solid form pressed up against her. "But if you want a baby born alpha, like you, then you need me. Only two alphas can create that."

"Actually an alpha baby can be born just as long as one parent has the bloodline," she started. Realizing she was suddenly lowering her real estate value by the second, she bounced back. "But yes, with two alphas, it's one hundred percent guaranteed that the baby will be born alpha as well."

Derek looked surprised. "I see," he said, kissing her forehead. "You learn something new every day."

She scolded herself for blurting out her little fun fact. The last thing she wanted to do was to cause Derek to lose interest and she felt as though she really needed to step up her game. Luckily, Stiles broke in. "Okay, my dad's gone and the coroner's office just left with the body," he said holding up his flashlight. "We ready?"

"Yes sir," said Amy. "Lead the way Stiles."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Isaac sighed. "Why'd they take the snake again?"

"Evidence," said Stiles.

"What moron would assume that a three foot snake killed a guy?" asked Erica.

Stiles looked at her reproachfully. "That would be the sheriff, also known as my dad."

She cringed. "Sorry."

Stiles patted her on the shoulder. "Okay well I'm the only human in this rag tag group so get those noses working and let's come up with something feasible people."

Amy paired up with Scott in the search of the house, doing a sweep of the second floor bedrooms. She rather liked the young man. He had kind eyes and good intentions. However, his mention of Allison Argent earlier made her nervous. Could he really be in love with a hunter? She certainly hoped not. She'd heard many stories about Chris Argent and questioned why Scott would deliberately get on his bad side.

The smell in the house reeked of kanima but despite Amy's best efforts, she couldn't determine anything from it. The kanima had a mild sulfuric odor that wasn't present when the beast was in its human form, so it would be useless to try to use scent as a factor in determining possible suspects.

"So you told Stiles that you could cure the kanima? How?" Scott asked.

"The kanima is unsure of its true self, which is why it's easy to control. It kills because it's given a purpose. So you have to show the beast it's true nature and it will be cured," said Amy.

"But how do you do that?" asked Scott.

"Well we have to find out who it is first. Then I'll go heavy into research mode and figure something out," said Amy.

Scott smiled. "Doesn't sound like a very good plan."

"Admittedly it could use work," said Amy. "And then there's the issue of who actually controls the kanima."

"Someone's controlling it?" asked Scott. "Lovely."

Amy nodded. "Yeah it's a big shit show." She suddenly caught a familiar scent and approached a half opened window. A small piece of fabric was stuck to a nail. Amy removed it and immediately knew it was a piece of one of Jackson's shirts. She inhaled sharply. His unique smell filled her nostrils. It was the scent that had driven her mad with desire just an hour earlier when he'd slipped into bed with her. She suddenly became very nervous. _No. It couldn't be._

But upon closer observation, it all made sense. Jackson was adopted. His father didn't support his future career. He was given the bite but never made the Change. He was a perfect candidate to be a kanima! And now he was leaving behind evidence. Amy's stomach churned. She had to protect him. There was a strong chance that Derek would still kill him despite the knowledge that kanimas could be cured. She absolutely had to keep Jackson's secret, if only for a short time, in order to protect him.

"What is it?" asked Scott.

"Nothing," she said, quickly palming the fabric. "I don't think there's much up here. We should regroup with Stiles."

Scott nodded. "Yeah, good idea."

"So," said Stiles, as Scott and Amy reached the bottom of the stairs. "The kanima didn't leave much behind besides some of that fun, gooey paralytic toxin, which Derek has creepily instructed Boyd to gather in a little jar. For what purpose I don't know. Probably for when he brings his dates back to his bat cave. Sly devil."

Derek rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it's useful for something."

"No means no, Derek," warned Stiles. "Just remember that, Dahmer."

Boyd walked up and handed Derek the jar. "Here you go. One jar of slime."

"Did you guys find anything of note upstairs?" asked Stiles.

Amy stiffened, but quickly regulated her heartbeat to avoid being found out.

Scott shook his head. "Nothing."

Stiles noted Amy's peculiar expression but chose not to press the issue just then. "Okay, let's saddle up. Amy I'll drop you back at Jackson's."

"You're staying with him?" Scott whispered. "Kind of fast," he said, giggling.

Amy playfully punched him in the arm but all levity was shelved when she saw Derek's dark expression. She was certain that he didn't appreciate the fact that his potential female was sleeping at another man's house. However, she had more pressing things on her mind. Jackson was in serious trouble and she needed to help him. She looked at Stiles, wanting to tell him everything, but held back. The young man had earned a spot in her heart but she couldn't risk putting Jackson in any more danger.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"So miss alpha, what did you find upstairs?" Stiles asked as he pulled out on to the street.

Knowing he couldn't hear her heartbeat, she simply played it casual. "What do you mean? Scott and I didn't find anything."

"Scott may not have found anything but you did," said Stiles. "Look Amy, you're subtle, I'll give you that. However, I'm much more observant than people think. For example, you came downstairs with your right hand in a tight fist. What were you hiding in there?"

Amy laughed and tried to blow it off. "I'm just still nervous around Derek. I clench my fists when I'm feeling anxious."

"Just your right one?" asked Stiles. "Interesting."

They drove in silence for a few moments. He continually looked over at her, concerned. She had only been in town for a day. Did she know who the kanima was by the survey of the crime scene? And, if so, why was she protecting it? He looked back over at her and decided to take another approach. "Amy, you said your parents dealt with kanimas in the past, right? What are they exactly?"

"Creatures used for vengeance," she said.

"Derek mentioned they're shifters, like werewolves," said Stiles. "Is that right?"

"Close," she said. "Not LIKE werewolves. They ARE werewolves. Not allowed to make the Change until their master's vengeance is had."

Stiles thought for a moment. "Not allowed to make the Change?" Suddenly he gulped. "Amy…look you know you can trust me, right? Like, if you listen to my heart you know I'm not lying to you."

Amy turned to him and nodded. "Yes."

"I will help you in any way I can," he steered the car into Jackson's neighborhood. "But I need you to be honest with me. Please."

She bit her lip. "I have a bad feeling that Derek will kill the kanima once it's found. I can smell it on him. He hates the creature for some reason. He doesn't understand it."

"Make me understand," said Stiles, softly, deciding to turn out of the neighborhood in order to have more private time with her.

She looked warily at him. "The kanima is rare. Someone who receives the bite cannot be made kanima. Only someone born wolf."

Stile's eyes widened. "But…at last count, that's only Derek…and you."

"Yes," said Amy. "But…see this is hard to explain. Those born wolf are typically trained by their family, their pack…on how to live. How to make the Change. But if a child never knows their true heritage, they most likely won't Change. They can't. Not until they are shown their true nature. Their true selves. That's why kanima can be controlled. He or she has never been shown the way. They know nothing of their origins."

"So someone in Beacon Hills was born wolf, never knew, and now they're being controlled to kill?" asked Stiles.

"It goes so beyond that Stiles," said Amy. "We not only have to consider the kanima, but its master. What are their motives? When will they be satisfied?"

"Geez," said Stiles. "That's a lot to consider. So we should regroup tomorrow and…"

"Stiles, I know I said I'd work with Derek but I might have to do this on my own," she said.

"And risk not being let into the pack? Why?" Stiles asked.

She didn't answer.

He touched her hand. "You know who it is, don't you? And you're protecting them."

She nodded. "Yes."

He pulled the Jeep over. "Amy look at me." She reluctantly made eye contact with him. "I want to help you. Let's put Derek and the pack aside for a second, okay? You can trust me. You can. I'd never steer you wrong. Let's work together on this. We'll get it solved in no time and put this crazy kanima business behind us once and for all." He squeezed her hand tightly. "Amy…what do you say?" he asked softly.

She looked into his kind, honey brown eyes and softened. He was a good person with the best intentions. She enjoyed his enthusiasm and intelligence, and was totally in love with his sense of humor. Amy relented. "Okay. But only me and you. Nobody else."

"Scott," he said. "We have to include him. Amy I trust him with my life. Scott wouldn't hurt a fly and he can keep secrets like no one I've ever met." He nudged her. "Scott. Deal?"

She looked out the window and saw the fog begin to roll into the (somewhat) sleepy town. Amy looked back at him and smiled weakly. "Deal."

Stiles grinned. "Excellent!" He soon got serious again. "So…who is it Amy? Who is the kanima?"

She opened her mouth to answer but became distracted when she heard the sound of glass breaking. "Did you hear that?" she asked.

"No," said Stiles. "Non-werewolf. What is it?"

"It was glass breaking, and it…" She looked towards the sound and saw it. Moving too fast for the human eye but just enough for her to catch. It was moving at a full clip, jumping from roof to roof. "Oh my God," she whispered.

"Amy?" asked Stiles. "Getting a little freaked here."

Suddenly the creature's head snapped towards the Jeep and went careening towards it. Amy instinctively got in front of Stiles and shielded him, just as the beast slammed onto the hood of the Jeep, crushing the metal like a soda can. The force was so strong that the windshield shattered. It let out a deafening roar at each of them before tearing off into the night.

"Stiles, are you okay?" Amy asked, holding his face.

"Besides almost pissing myself yes, I'm good. Amy who is it?" he pleaded.

She felt for the keys to the Aprilia in her jacket pocket and looked at Stiles. "It's Jackson. Jackson is the kanima."


	6. Chapter 6

6

*So I just watched "Party Guessed" and I'm still picking my jaw up from the floor. Holy guacamole! I have to thank AlongHardKnight (I still say "giggity" every time I see your pen name) but you have the best comments and I greatly appreciate that. So…hopefully my little plot twist isn't too redundant. I swear I'm going somewhere with it. I don't want to get too cliché but the idea came to me in the car and I thought it could be worked into something interesting. I just don't want people who actually like this story to groan and say, "Not THIS again!" Anyway, let me know your thoughts. And away we go…

"Look you can't go by yourself," pleaded Stiles from the driveway.

"Stiles, he could hurt you. I can't risk that," she said, mounting the Aprilia. "I can handle this."

"Do you even know where he is?" asked Stiles.

"It looked like he was headed towards the city. I can sniff him out, especially with the wind being strong the way it is tonight. But I need to go. Like now," she said.

"Oh okay well do you have a plan? Or an inkling of a plan? Or an iota of an inkling of a HINT OF A PLAN?" he asked.

She stopped. "Granted that's a minor speed bump," she conceded. "But I have to at least try." She went to start the bike.

He grabbed her by the hips. "Okay Inappropriate Stiles is coming out right now. Amy, get your ass off that bike. NOW. Have you even stopped to think that Derek could be out somewhere tracking the kanima? What if you run into him? How are you going to take on him and his entire pack to save Jackson's life? You need backup. Listen, the keys to that ridiculously douchey Porsche are inside, okay? I'm calling Scott and we're going to find Jackson. Together. Got it?"

She looked at him in shock. "You're a take charge man, Stilinski."

He nodded. "Yeah, well spread the word. In the meantime…Ass. Off. Bike."

She relented and put her hands in the air. "Ass is off the bike," she said, dismounting.

"Thank you," said Stiles, going to the front door and turning the knob. He quickly returned with the keys to the Porsche. "And I'M driving."

She shrugged. "I'm not about to argue with you. Geez."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Amy was rather impressed with Stiles' driving skills. The Porsche hugged every turn as they made their way closer to the city. He barked orders to Scott over the phone. "Just head towards the city Scott, keep your nose to the wind and don't freaking dilly dally!" Stiles hung up and, despite the circumstances, Amy had to giggle.

"What?" he asked, looking at her, confused. "What is it?"

"Nothing Sergeant Stiles. Just…nothing."

"What?" he asked. "Tell me."

"It's just…well why haven't you taken the Bite?" she asked.

"The Bite?" he asked, incredulously. "Me?"

"It's never been offered to you? I'm surprised. I'd think that Derek would see how great you are," she said.

He sat with his mouth agape for a few seconds. "I, um…well it was offered to me, but not by Derek. But that's neither here nor there. I'm confused, are you offering it to me?" he asked.

"Well you can't question the fact that I'd consider it, Stiles," she said, shrugging. "You're very intelligent and I quite like you. I've been lone for a long time and I haven't met anyone that I'd like to make a beta besides you."

He suddenly blushed. "Aww shucks. Hey and, bonus, it would save you from that pesky problem of joining Derek's pack," he joked.

"Well why didn't you take the Bite before?" she asked.

"Because the dude offering it to me was batshit crazy, that's why. And why would I want to be a werewolf anyway?" he asked. "It's caused Scott nothing but heartache." She considered his statement and turned away. "Oh my G-," he started. "I'm sorry Amy, I didn't mean it like that. I'm an asshole."

"It's okay, Stiles," she said. "I understand."

"No you really don't," said Stiles. "I basically just told you to go screw and I didn't mean to. Look, it's just been pretty rough since Scott turned. It makes me constantly question whether the Bite is actually a gift or a curse."

"You guys just haven't had a good experience with alphas," she said. "We're really loving and supportive, I swear. We live for our betas. Without them we're nothing."

He looked at her sadly. "Don't say that," he said.

"It's true," she lamented. "It's been sixteen months that I've been lone. I hate it, Stiles."

He took her hand. "I'd hate it too." He suddenly smiled. "Would it make you feel better if I said maybe someday I'd consider taking the Bite from you? I'm not anywhere near ready now Amy, but…we'll keep the option on the table. What do you say?"

She brightened. "Really?"

"Of course," he said. "Anything for a friend. But I make no guarantees."

She watched him for a moment. "So you saw what I was trying to do there, sneaking in the Bite conversation, huh?" she asked.

He smirked at her. "From a mile away. And I had the audacity to call you subtle earlier. Shame on me."

She smiled back and squeezed his hand. "Nobody is perfect Stiles," she said. She lifted her head and sniffed at the air. "Scott's close."

"That's new," said Stiles. "He's perpetually late. Even to the life or death scenarios."

"It's dead ahead," she said suddenly, her eyes wide. "In that old factory building," she said, pointing to an enormous building in the distance.

"You can smell him?" asked Stiles.

"I smell the kanima," she said.

"Which you said was Jackson, yes?" asked Stiles.

"Jackson's body. Not his mind. He really doesn't know what he's doing, Stiles. It's actually very sad. It's extremely painful making the transformation and Jackson's likely woken up with blood on his hands more than once. He's probably terribly confused and angry and, God, I just want to help him," she said despondently.

"You will. We will," said Stiles. "And," he said, parking the car at an all night donut shop across from the factory. "That asshole better appreciate it when all's said and done."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"It's disgusting," said Scott, grimacing. "Be happy you can't smell it."

"Yeah well smelling the kanima would kind of help me to know that's it's close by and that I need to run like hell," said Stiles. "So don't be surprised at my jealousy of your superior olfactory process."

"My what?" Scott asked. "Is that even a real thing?"

"No Scott. No it's not," said Stiles, dryly. "I just made that up."

Scott cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Why would you-?"

"Never mind," said Stiles, rifling through the back of the Porsche. "Well, apparently Jackson doesn't carry the serial killer starter kit that I have in the back of the Jeep. There's nothing in here that we could use to tie him up," he said, annoyed. He looked at Amy. "How are we gonna tie Jackson up without the usual tools? Got any bright ideas?"

"Well," she said, yanking the passenger side mirror free from the Porsche. She stopped short when she noted that Scott and Stiles were watching her. "Kanimas get confused by their-,"

"Yeah, their reflection," said Stiles. "Scott figured that out when Jackson held me and Derek hostage in the school's pool for three hours."

Amy nodded. "As far as the tying-up issue is concerned, if we can stun him or induce pain somehow, he'll likely change back to human form. Then we can get him back to the house and go from there."

"And how do we stun him?" asked Stiles.

Amy shrugged. "Bring up his olfactory process," she said, strutting to the factory. She giggled. "It certainly stopped Scott in his tracks."

Stiles chuckled. "Come on genius," said Stiles, patting Scott on the back. "Follow that wolf."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Scott and Amy scaled the building while Stiles chose to take the stairs. "Fifth floor," Amy called to him. He nodded and slipped inside.

Scott entered through a window and assisted Amy inside. She surveyed the large, musty room. "Why would he be here?" Scott asked. "The building looks abandoned."

"With any luck he's just hiding out here and biding his time until his master provides him with a location and a victim," said Amy.

"This would be his second killing in one night," said Scott. "His master must be in a hurry."

"Which could work in our favor," said Amy. "Being in a hurry could leave room for mistakes."

"Whoever the victim is must be close to here," said Scott.

She waved her hand in front of her face and scrunched her nose. "And judging by the smell, so is the kanima."

Scott studied her. "Why don't you call him Jackson?"

She sighed. "I'd like to consider Jackson and the creature as two very separate entities. Jackson has no idea what's going on so it's easier for me to think of it that way I guess."

"Understood," said Scott. "If Allison spent her nights as a revenge-seeking killer lizard, I'd probably have to find a way to make rhyme or reason of that too."

Amy led Scott down a narrow hallway towards the stairwell. "You haven't mentioned Allison to me yet," she said, approaching the topic carefully. "Chris Argent's daughter. A werewolf in love with a werewolf hunter. Poetic in a way."

Scott looked at his feet. "Yeah," he said, flashing his shy smile. "She's the Capulet to my Montague."

"A Shakespeare reference?" she joked. "Stiles would be proud."

"I would have said 'she's the Buffy to my Angel'," said Stiles, reaching the top of the stairs, breathless. He bent down, putting his hands on his knees, chest moving in and out rapidly. "But I'm proud just the same, Scott. So let's snag ourselves a Whittemore and skedaddle, shall we?"

"We have to find him first," said Scott.

"Not to worry," said Amy, lifting the mirror. "He's one floor above us."

"Oh good, another flight of stairs," said Stiles, sarcastically.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Stiles whistled. "Here Jackson. Here boy."

"Stiles," scolded Scott. "Those in the group without wolf strength need to…"

"Yeah, yeah," said Stiles. "I'll just hold the mirror and keep my mouth shut."

Amy's eyes glowed red as she gathered all the strength she'd need to subdue the creature. Scott's presence helped her to do this and she enjoyed the increased power that the beta provided to her. Her eyes caught what the casual observer would identify as a shadow, slinking its way along the wall. "Thirty feet straight ahead," she whispered.

Scott looked in the direction and his eyes glinted yellow. "I see him."

"Stiles do not move from this spot," said Amy.

"We'll draw him to you," whispered Scott. "Keep that mirror handy."

"Keeping the mirror handy," Stiles said in his British accent. "Not terrified to the point of soiling my knickers in any way."

"Don't worry Stiles," said Amy. "We'd never let it hurt you."

"I'm not worried about me," he said. "Be careful. Both of you."

"It's weaker near the neck and the groin," Amy said to Scott. "Just don't go so deep that you slit its throat because that would kill Jackson."

He nodded and began his approach on the left. Amy swung right and the kanima dropped down from the wall and got down on its haunches, whipping its tail into Amy's thighs. She grunted from the pain but recovered quickly, taking a swipe at the creature's neck.

It roared in agony as her claws shredded its scales. Fresh blood seeped down its neck as it slammed into her. The pair fell through a stack of rotted wooden pallets. A large shard of broken wood impaled Amy through her abdomen. She screamed in pain and attempted to become free of the wood but struggled with the weight of the kanima on her. The kanima rose up and mounted her, ready to strike. Scott was soon to Amy's aid. He leapt forward, slamming the creature in the back with his elbow. The creature cried out and turned its attentions away from Amy. When it jumped up, Scott began to edge backwards, towards Stiles. "Come on Jackson," said Scott. "Follow me. Come on."

"Careful of his claws, Scott," warned Stiles, as the creature made several attempts to slash at the young beta's chest.

Amy stood up and pulled the large wooden shard from her stomach with a pained squeal. Once removed, she quickly healed and bared her fangs at the kanima. It roared back but still attempted to keep its distance from her. For a few moments the two werewolves moved in conjunction with the beast until they could get it close enough to Stiles. It growled as Stiles held up the mirror. "Come on Jackson. I'm sure you've spent a lot of time staring at yourself in the mirror. How's about once more?"

The kanima went into a trance upon seeing its reflection. Stiles held steady to the mirror. "Pretty lizard," he said. "Got a real face for radio."

Amy crept up behind it and held out her claws. "I'm so sorry Jackson," she said, thrusting her claws just under the base of the creature's tail. It howled in pain, but it was just enough to release Jackson back into his human form. Jackson fell naked onto the concrete floor crying out from the sting of the alpha's razor-like claws.

Amy quickly went to his side. His regular, wonderful smell was back and she nuzzled into his neck, enjoying the feel of his skin and his strong pulse. "Jackson," she said gently taking his face in her hands. "I'm so sorry that I hurt you. I had to do it so the pain would bring you back."

He looked up at her, stunned. "Amy?" He looked down at her torn shirt and the crimson blood that stained it. His eyes widened. "What happened to you? Who hurt you?" he asked, frantically grabbing at the shirt.

She lifted the shirt and placed his hand on the spot where her wound used to be. "I'm okay, Jackson," she whispered before kissing him on the forehead. "All healed."

He gulped, his breathing rapid. He looked at her pleadingly. "What-what the hell is going on?"

"You've been moonlighting as a big old lizard man," explained, Stiles, kneeling next to him. "You know doing the usual…dancing, prancing, dropping my Jeep on people's heads. Standard fare. Oh, and you owe me about a grand for the repairs that my Jeep is going to need. But let's not split hairs on the topic. You're nekked and we need to get you out of here ASAP."

"What?" asked Jackson, confused. "You're telling me I'm the one who has been killing people in town? Amy?" He looked at her with disbelief. "Tell me this isn't true."

She caressed his cheek. "YOU haven't been killing people," said Amy. "The kanima has. You've been changing into it at night. Someone is controlling you. But we can help cure you. Come on let's get you up," she said, assisting him. He groaned, the pain in his groin overwhelming him.

Scott went to Jackson's right and threw his arm over his shoulder. "You'll heal. It'll be okay," he assured him.

Jackson breathed heavy from the exertion. "Thanks."

Amy smiled at Scott. "Not a bad showing tonight McCall. Nice moves."

Scott grinned. "Likewise."

Stiles cleared his throat. Amy and Scott looked at him in confusion. "Oh," he said, shrugging. "I thought since we were handing out compliments that I was next in line. But that's cool, I'll get mine later, I guess."

Amy threw Jackson's left arm over her shoulder. "You got your compliment in the car," she said winking before walking with Jackson and Scott to the stairwell.

Stiles blushed. "That I did."

Stiles led the three of them down the six flights of stairs and out of the building. Jackson looked pale as he was assisted to his car. "Those stairs were probably a bitch with that injury," said Stiles, grabbing a blanket. "Here you go," he said, laying the blanket over Jackson as he lay in the backseat of the Porsche. Jackson thanked Stiles and was showing signs of losing consciousness.

"Did you have to stab him right in the groin?" asked Stiles, as they drove back to Jackson's. He cringed. "I'm having sympathy pains."

"The pain is what brings any shifter back to human form. His scales would be like armor against my claws. I would risk killing him if I sliced too deeply into his neck. I had to go there," she said. "Trust me I didn't enjoy it."

"Yikes," said Stiles, looking in the rearview mirror at Scott, who followed in his mother's car. Stiles exhaled. "Okay now what?"

Amy looked back at Jackson, who had passed out, right arm slung haphazardly over his chest. "We need to look into Jackson's past and find out about his real parents. He needs to know who he really is in order to be released from his puppeteer."

"Well if there's one thing I'm good at, it's sticking my nose into other people's business and completely invading their privacy in order to get answers," said Stiles, proudly.

She smiled. "Oh, that's your specialty?"

He nodded. "Yup. I'm thinking of having a t-shirt made, in fact." He looked through the dashboard and sighed. "Amy something's been bothering me since you told me Jackson was born wolf."

"You think he's a Hale," said Amy.

Stiles nodded. "It's the only thing I can think of."

"It's a possibility but I tend to disagree at this point. You said that Derek's sister Laura was the alpha before Peter Hale killed her?" she asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well alphas, especially the females, have very strong senses of smell. In fact, it's not that they can smell very faint scents, it's that we remember them quite clearly. It's like an eidetic memory for scents. Each individual wolf or person's unique scent is retained by a female alpha throughout their lives. And we especially know the scents of those in our bloodline. Now if Jackson was truly a Hale, Derek or Peter MIGHT have been able to figure it out, but Laura would have known right off. If Derek was born into the bloodline, then I'll assume that Laura was born alpha like me. Even if Jackson were three towns over, she'd sense him," said Amy. "And a sixteen year separation wouldn't have any effect."

"But Laura and Jackson never met," argued Stiles. "Not that I know of anyway."

"It wouldn't matter. They lived in the same town for years. Laura would have contacted Jackson well before any of this," said Amy.

Stiles bit his thumbnail in deep thought. "So there may have been an unrelated wolf around Beacon Hills the year before Jackson was born. Maybe an omega female? Or even a pack that wandered through?"

"It's always possible," said Amy. "Think about it, if I went into heat soon, I'd either take up with Derek or find a beta to mate with. Packs aren't always keen on stuff like that. Maybe the mother was denied by the pack after she became pregnant. Or perhaps hunters killed the parents and didn't have the heart to kill the baby so Jackson ended up, I don't know, in a basket on someone's porch. Who knows?"

Stiles groaned. "Too many what if's and maybe's right now. I want to get down to the research."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"I never thought I'd ask you this but how's your undercarriage, dude?" asked Stiles, nodding to Jackson's crotch.

Jackson rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and shook his head. "Still hurts like hell. But luckily my dad had some pain killers in the bathroom."

Stiles watched Jackson with sympathy as he limped around the living room. "Well your abuse and torture by our hands isn't over yet," said Stiles, extracting his trusty set of heavy chains from a duffel bag. He jangled them gleefully. "And another thing I never thought I'd say to you…I have to chain you up, Jackson."

Jackson looked over at Amy and Scott skeptically. "Really?"

"Unfortunately yes," said Amy. "It's the only way we can protect you."

"And the rest of Beacon Hills," said Scott.

"So let's find something nice and sturdy to tie you to!" said Stiles, happily. "Follow me to the kitchen!"

"You're enjoying this way too much," said Jackson, limping after Stiles. "Maybe it lends credence to what I've always suspected about you," he joked.

"Is that a gay comment or an S and M comment?" asked Stiles. "Because if it's an S and M comment, I happen to have read Fifty Shades of Grey and I gotta tell you, I think I'll pass. I'm a bit more vanilla than that."

"Did the big bad book give you nightmares, Stiles?" asked Jackson as they entered the kitchen.

Stiles put his hands on his hips and looked thoughtful. "Well I think it didn't help that I imagined that Grey dude as Derek. Not on purpose, of course, but once it was in my head I couldn't get it out. Then picture Derek doing, you know, THAT kind of stuff and its just weirdness all around, you know?" Stiles asked.

Jackson sighed. "I'm going to go ahead and forget that we ever had this conversation, Stiles."

"Yeah that's probably best," said Stiles. "Okay, let's get you tied to this wonderfully sturdy looking island with the granite countertop, shall we?" He gestured for Jackson to sit.

"Don't fuck up my mom's kitchen," said Jackson, sitting against the island, grimacing in pain.

"Speaking of your mom and the kitchen," said Stiles, securing the chains around Jackson's mid-section. "You wouldn't happen to have more of those ridiculously awesome Blondies that she made the other day, do you?"

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "You liked them?"

"Like a mouth full of orgasm," said Stiles, groaning, eyes dramatically rolling back in his head.

"Okay that's… gross. But I'll give the chef your compliments. There's more in the fridge," said Jackson.

"You sir, rock."

"Another thing you never thought you'd say to me," said Jackson, chuckling.

Stiles began to raid the fridge. In the meantime, Amy came into the kitchen and knelt down next to Jackson. He swallowed hard. "I'm just hoping that this is the most vivid nightmare I've ever had. One minute I'm in bed with you, touching your gorgeous body, the next I'm tied to my kitchen island because I'm a giant killer lizard and my family jewels feel like they lost a fight with a weed whacker." He hung his head.

She kissed him softly on the lips. "We will figure this out okay?"

"I'm a cold blooded killer Amy," said Jackson, sadly.

"Literally," said Stiles, his mouth full of the cookie. He chewed as Amy gave him a reproachful look. "It was a joke. Get it? Because you're a lizard and...I, okay I'm going somewhere else now," he said, making a quick exit, leaving a trail of crumbs in his wake.

"Jackson," she said, placing her hands on his shoulders. "You are not a killer. Someone is using you to seek revenge on their victims."

"Why me?" he asked. "What is it in me that would make me weak enough to do some psycho's bidding?"

"See, you always do this to yourself Jackson. You are so hard on yourself. You are NOT weak," she argued. She wanted to explain everything to him right then and there but she desperately wanted to begin searching through Jackson's childhood records. "You're wonderful," she said, kissing his lips. This time he softened and offered a gentle kiss in return. She smiled. "I like everything about you, Jackson. Your eyes, your smell, your voice. Your…shhh…cooking," she whispered.

He laughed softly.

"Jackson, there's so much I have to tell you. I just need you to bear with us a little longer. Then everything will become clear. Okay?" she asked.

He nodded. "I trust you Amy." He looked around the kitchen. "Well at least Stiles knew to tie me in my favorite part of the house. Or second favorite part now that you're here."

She giggled. "That's the spirit Jackson." When she stood up he stopped her.

"One more thing," he said.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Was I the one that injured you tonight?" he asked, gesturing to her stomach.

She shook her head. "Indirectly, I promise."

"Good because I could never intentionally hurt you, Amy. Ever. I only want to keep you safe," he said.

"Don't forget warm and fully fed," she said, smiling.

"Yeah," he said, looking into her, his eyes full of things unsaid. "I just care. That's all," he whispered.

She ran her hands through his thick hair. "Me too. I care very much about you Jackson."

_More than he knew._

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Well he must really like you," said Scott, entering the study. "Jackson's never this cooperative."

Amy smiled. "Well his cooperation will be key." She looked out the window. "It's nearing dawn. We have the day to figure this out. I doubt he'll change during daylight but,"

"Stranger things have happened," said Scott. "And the kanima never got to its second victim last night. The master will want to play catch up I'm sure."

"You got it," said Amy. "Okay let's go through some of this paperwork," said Amy, opening up a file cabinet. "Jackson says this is where his parents keep all their records. There's got to be something." She extracted a set of folders and she and Scott took a place on the floor.

The paperwork was very general. Amy and Scott sifted through bank statements, car insurance records and mortgage papers. After nearly an hour, Scott threw the papers down with a heavy sigh. "Nothing," he muttered. "Shit."

"I know," said Amy, looking glumly at the hundreds of pieces of paper on the floor. "Okay we just have to look somewhere else," she said getting up.

"Got you covered!" said Stiles cheerfully. He entered the study holding a fancy hatbox. "While you guys were going through the office I took the liberty of, let's just call it what it is…snooping around the house and found this little gem in the very back of Jackson's mom's closet in the master suite." He dropped the box on the floor. "I haven't really gone through it but I did see Jackson's birth certificate towards the top."

"Stiles you are so awesome!" exclaimed Amy, hugging him.

Stiles patted his back. "Not to toot my own horn people, but toot toot, ya know?"

Amy giggled. "Okay everybody grab a stack of papers and let's get to it."

Stiles took off his sneakers and spread out on the plush carpet. He grabbed the birth certificate and began reading. "Alright, so Jackson was actually born Christian Joseph Bailey. Time of birth was 8:07 AM on June fifteenth at Beacon Hills Medical Center, yada, yada, yada. Mother's name was Catherine Elizabeth Bailey, aged twenty-six. Father's name was…oh my God."

"Stiles?" asked Amy. "What is it?"

Stiles' eyes were wider than silver dollars. "This is bad upon worse upon holy shit is what it is!" said Stiles; looking several times at the paper to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

"Stiles," said Scott on bated breath. "Who is Jackson's real father?"

Stiles blinked in shock. "According to his birth certificate, Jackson's biological father is none other than Christopher James…Argent."

_**(A/N: Because Allison and Jackson haven't had any romantic interaction (except for Scott's sometime delusions/imaginings) then I thought it was pretty safe to go this route. Okay so let me know what you think!)**_


	7. Chapter 7

7

_***Thank you so much for your kind words. ALongHardKnight, I agree Jackson needs someone to calm the storm, so to speak. Hopefully you enjoy this chapter too! **_

"What?" Scott asked, mouth agape. "Let me see that." Scott went to Stiles and took the paper from his hand. "Christopher James Argent, aged thirty. That's…shit, that's definitely him," said Scott in shock. "Allison and her mom just had a big dinner for his forty-seventh a couple of weeks ago."

"But I thought the Argents were completely new to Beacon Hills," said Amy.

"They've lived here on and off for years," said Stiles. "It had been many years since they were here last."

"They move around quite a bit. I know they have a house in Washington," said Scott. "I think they've spent a lot of time there."

Amy nodded. "That one I knew about. I grew up near Puget Sound. Other packs would take refuge there because the Argents stayed in the more populated areas. I'd heard tons of stories about Chris but never met him."

"So this means that back in the nineties, Mr. Argent had an affair," said Scott.

"With a werewolf," added Stiles. "Thus getting her pregnant and probably starting World War Three."

"Can you imagine if Gerard was around to witness that?" asked Scott. "His own son having an illegitimate child with their family's most hated enemy?"

"They'd have killed the mother for sure," said Amy, sadly. "And Chris was most certainly severely punished for his indiscretions."

"But how does that explain what happened to Jackson?" asked Scott.

"Well, for those born wolf without their knowledge, the Change remains latent in their systems. The Argents knew that Jackson would never be a problem if he was adopted out to a loving, non-werewolf family like the Whittemore's," said Amy. "Jackson would never know and thus not be a threat."

"Do you think Chris knew that the Whittemore's adopted Jackson? If so, that's pretty fucked up, knowing your own son but not saying anything," said Stiles.

"It's hard to tell," said Amy. "Why come back to Beacon Hills if that's the case?"

"Simple," said Scott. "The day after Laura Hale's body was found in the woods, poof, the Argent's suddenly showed up back in town."

"And I'm sure they kept a close eye on the events surrounding the Hale house fire a few years earlier," said Stiles. "They came back here to hunt the remaining Hales."

"And then Derek came along and bit Jackson," said Scott.

"Yeah, after Jackson begged for the bite," said Stiles.

"Right," said Amy. "So someone MUST have known about Jackson's heritage in order to make him kanima. Whether it's Chris Argent, Gerard, or someone who knows Derek. Even Jackson's adoptive parents."

"Great, so we've got a long list of suspects. This is going to take forever," said Scott.

"Don't worry about the master just yet, Scott," said Amy. "Once Jackson is cured, the master no longer has a hold over him. So it's cure Jackson first, then worry about the master. Besides, we still have that whole hatbox to go through. There could very well be some clues in there that could lead us to the kanima master."

"Hey, why didn't Derek's bite turn Jackson for good?" asked Stiles. "Wouldn't it, like, activate his wolf side or something?"

"Because wolf is already in Jackson's bloodline. He needs to be shown his true nature before he can turn on his own. The kanima possession, however, would cause really odd behaviors. Strange odors, a pallid complexion, black goo running from the nose and eyes, hallucinations, and the list goes on," said Amy.

Scott nodded. "Jackson had all of those issues."

Stiles eyes lit up. "Amy another thing just occurred to me. Before Derek bit Jackson, he'd accidentally scratched him in the back of the neck during a tussle they had. The doctor told him he had mild wolfsbane poisoning. This caused the Argents to immediately suspect Jackson of being a beta. Scott and I even had to intercept when Chris followed Jackson to an abandoned lot one day."

"I'm glad you remembered that," said Amy. "That means the doctor could have something to do with Jackson turning kanima. That scratch wouldn't have affected a human. Okay let's focus. First things first, we have to find out what happened to Catherine," said Amy. "Although I have a bad feeling we already know."

"I'm on it," said Stiles, standing up. "Surprisingly enough this won't take long at all. Just a sprinkle of my usual finesse and I'll have an answer in ten. Sit tight you two." He stood up and went to Jackson's father's computer.

Amy wrung her hands, thinking of nothing but Jackson. In order to cure him, he'd need to know the truth, and she knew the only way that could be accomplished was to allow a face-to-face meeting between Jackson and Chris. This would certainly put him in immediate danger and Amy was terrified of that. However, Jackson needed to know the truth. Not only that but his biological father owed him an explanation. He helped create the young man after all and had caused Jackson years of uncertainty and heartache.

She could sense Jackson in the kitchen, seeking her out by the faint scent she left hours earlier. His heartbeat was strong and steady and she felt herself being pulled by its sway. "I want to speak with Jackson about what happened after Derek scratched him. That could help him to remember his wolf side and give us some clues." She stood up.

"Just intel Amy," joked Stiles.

Scott snickered.

"Oh like you have room to talk," said Stiles, rolling his eyes.

"Amy," Jackson whispered suddenly. She paused, exchanging a concerned look with Scott. "Amy," he said again, this time, almost in a hiss. Something about it made her spine turn to ice.

She walked on shaky legs into to the kitchen. Scott followed close behind. Jackson lifted his lashes when they came into the room, his eyes dull and sinister. "Ah," he said. "There's the alpha bitch that took my favorite toy away. Tsk, tsk, didn't anyone ever tell you it's not nice to steal what's not yours?"

"Interesting advice coming from someone who's using an innocent person's body to kill for revenge," she said.

Jackson gave a spine tingling laugh. "He was mine first, you little whore."

"He doesn't belong to you," said Scott, eyes glittering with anger.

Jackson offered a smirk. "And of course…Scott McCall. Always in the thick of things, aren't you? I should have known."

"Who are you?" whispered Scott.

Jackson chuckled. "You think I'm going to tell the punch line before the joke? I'd love to know how you two brain trusts think you're going to help Jackson." He looked Amy up and down and sneered. "If you think the answer lies between your legs than save it, skank. You can't turn him away from his duty by promises of dirty deeds done under expensive bed sheets, no matter how much you tell him you care about him. The two of you made me sick before, rolling around on his parent's bed and carrying on. He's a seventeen year old boy, for God's sake!" He looked between Scott and Amy with contempt. "You dirty mongrels are all the same, you know that? You're all led around by your genitals. Sniffing and licking and scratching like junkyard dogs. Nasty little curs!" he roared.

"It's called doing what comes normally," said Scott. "Which is more than I can say for you."

"Oh…normal like you and Allison?" said Jackson. "Running around and hiding and pretending you're not still madly in love? Using your mother's car for your trysts? Oh that must make her feel so special, Scott. You're a real romantic guy. What's next? Why don't the two of you just head on over to the boys bathroom and bend her over one of the sinks? Who do you think you're fooling, boy? Disgusting animal."

"Okay Pat Robertson, how's about we tone down the sermon before you start talking about how you hate the gays and that all liberals should be brought outside and shot," said Stiles, leaning against the doorframe.

Jackson looked at Stiles and grinned. "Well, if it isn't the town freak."

Stiles knelt down next to Jackson. "What's your beef with me huh, kanima master? What'd I ever do to you?"

Jackson rolled his eyes. "I have no beef with you. You're insignificant. An insect. You're a motherless little shit."

Amy and Scott angrily flew towards Jackson, fangs bared, eyes glowing fire.

Stiles stood up. "Whoa! Whoa! Let's not interrupt our guest while they're speaking," he said looking knowingly at the two wolves. "It's very rude." He turned back to Jackson. "What about your victims, huh? What did they do to make you go this far to get revenge on them?"

Jackson sighed. "Why do you want to save this narcissistic pretty boy anyway? Face it he's hopeless. He'd grow up to be some financial big wig, one percenter with a trophy wife who wouldn't bother stopping the car if he ran any of you over. He's a waste of life, and we all know it. He's a little rich snot. Good riddance."

Amy roared, eyes crimson. She raised her claws but Scott stopped her, holding her at the waist with all of his strength. "Remember that's Jackson in there, Amy. Remember okay? You'd never forgive yourself if you hurt him, especially in anger." Amy nodded and a low growl escaped her throat.

Jackson giggled. "You can't save the little twit, so why are we bothering talking?"

"That's a lie," said Amy.

"Oh, is it?" asked Jackson.

"Yeah it is," she said, bitterly. "My parents have dealt with things like you before. They've cured kanima."

Jackson laughed hysterically. "Oh your parents did, huh? Amy tell me," said Jackson, leaning as far forward as his body would allow. "How did they go about doing that? Huh? I certainly don't think they enlisted the aid of a beta werewolf with the IQ of a grapefruit nor a complete reject like Stilinski."

"That's very true," said Stiles. He pointed to himself. "Because if they had this so-called reject, they'd have gotten their jobs done in half the time."

Jackson shook his head. "I don't believe you, boy. You're nothing if not entertaining. Why don't you go back to Daddy and help him solve his cases, hmmm? And then the two of you can go say a prayer for your dead mommy. She died a slow death, didn't she? What happened? Cancer, brain damage or just sick to death of her loser son?"

Stiles swallowed hard. Scott and Amy both growled at the insult of their friend.

"I hit a nerve?" asked Jackson. "Sorry."

Stiles made direct eye contact. "You know something you enormous piece of shit? You had to use a confused teenaged boy to do the stuff that you didn't have the stones to do yourself. Mark my words. We'll find you. It's only a matter of time." He slowly picked up something that had been sitting next to his feet. He lifted the shiny mirror to Jackson's dead eyes and held it in front of his face. "Come on Jackson. Come back to us. Don't let this piss poor puppet master take any more space in your head."

Amy and Scott laid their hands on Stiles' shoulder as Jackson's body began to twist and contort in agony. He screamed out at his own image, and the dull clouds in his eyes dissipated, leaving behind only a set of clear, yet confused orbs. "What happened?" he asked, gasping. "What did I do?"

The four all fought to catch their breath in the kitchen. "Your master showed up. Apparently he or she doesn't have the highest opinion of all of us," said Stiles.

"But," said Amy, "I think it gave us some clues as to who it might be."

She looked at Stiles, who nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead and rule out Chris Argent. He might be a dick but I doubt he'd hit below the belt like that," said Stiles.

"What did I say to you?" Jackson asked, showing a rare moment of concern for Stiles. "Stiles did I say something bad?"

Stiles bit his lower lip and shrugged. "You weren't the one spewing insults, Jackson. Don't worry. I'm over it."

"Did you find out about Catherine?" Amy asked softly.

Stiles averted his eyes from Jackson. "Come talk to me," he whispered. Scott followed Amy and Stiles into the study. He directed Amy to have a seat at the computer and she obeyed. "I found this. It pre-dates my dad being sheriff. He was still a guard at the prison back then. I'm not sure how Chris wasn't implicated. I have a feeling that the birth certificate we found was never meant to see the light of day." Scott leaned over Amy's shoulder to read the newspaper article dated June 20, 1995:

_The body of the woman found in several pieces in the woods abutting a residential neighborhood yesterday morning has been identified as twenty-six year old Catherine Elizabeth Bailey. Police searched the area near the Exeter Lake section of Beacon Hills into late last evening after a jogger found a severed head and a foot haphazardly placed near the jogging trail. As the evening went on, police made numerous gruesome finds, including Bailey's torso and feet. Catherine was a young artist who'd moved to Beacon Hills just last year. She was recently hired to teach art classes at Beacon Hills Community College starting in September. Tragically, Miss Bailey leaves behind an infant son, whom she gave birth to just five days ago. The coroner has determined that Bailey died just hours after giving birth. Authorities are not sure of the killer's motive nor do they have any possible suspects in custody at this time. Attempts to locate Miss Bailey's immediate family or the father of her child have proven unsuccessful. _

Amy held her hands in front of her mouth and sat in silence. Scott put his head on her shoulder. "God hunters would do anything to hurt us, won't they?" he asked his voice stained with despair. "That poor woman. She was just a young mother. I've never heard of anything so cruel."

"And this pretty much proves that Jackson's adoptive parents were part of the cover up although their roles aren't clear yet," said Stiles. "And I'm sure they weren't the only ones."

Amy touched Scott's face while staring at the horrific words on the screen. Her hands began to shake. Chris Argent never bothered her before. He'd never made any attempts on the lives of her pack. However, the hatred she had for the man began to cultivate and move through her veins like jagged glass. His unfaithful ways caused a horrific chain reaction that hurt so many people, most importantly Jackson. The rage boiled just under the surface of her skin until she felt as though she was on fire.

The hot, prickly sensation spread from her neck to her extremities and she felt herself being pulled into depths she had not known for a long time. She gulped for air, trying to stop herself. The feeling she was having always meant that she would soon make the Change…the full Change. She searched her mind to find something to keep her skin from painfully splitting and tearing apart to become the Wolf. It was the two hundred pound grayish black beast that she only transformed into during moments of intense, unimaginable anger.

She reached behind her for Stiles and looked into his beautiful kind eyes. His concern for her was all over his face. "Amy what's wrong with you? You look different."

She stood up, breathing heavily. She fell to her knees, brushing her hair away from her damp face. "My body wants to make the Change," she said, breathlessly.

"Oh God," said Scott, kneeling next to her. He looked at Stiles. "When she means the Change she means like Peter could. Into a real wolf." He looked back at her. "Amy, try not to. Please," he begged.

"I can't stop," she growled, her formidable fangs bared as she roared in agony. She thought of the savage manner in which Jackson's mother was killed and her head throbbed so hard that her eyes felt as if they'd pop out of their sockets. Chris Argent was responsible for making his son's life a living hell. "I'll rip out his heart!" she screamed. Amy held her abdomen, her breath rapid and hoarse. She tore at the carpeting, trying to regain her equilibrium.

Stiles grabbed her face. "Amy, listen to me. Look at me now. Please. There will be no ripping out of hearts. Okay, you need to keep the Change in check. Amy you have to tell us what to do to help. What can we do?" he pleaded.

She trembled, her skin beginning to tear and split. "Derek," she rasped. "You have to get Derek. He's got the strength to keep me from losing control."

Scott was already dialing his phone. "Scott wait!" called Stiles. "What about Jackson? Derek might kill him!"

"He'll have enough on his mind trying to keep Amy from killing the entire Argent family," said Scott.

"I'm sure Derek is perfectly fine with that and will probably ask to help!" argued Stiles. "There's got to be another way."

Scott thought for a moment. Despite his issues with Derek, the young alpha had managed to teach him a few things. "There is," said Scott. His eyes flashed and he sunk his sharp claws in the area just above her left hip.

She screamed and pulled at Scott's shirt.

"What are you doing?" demanded Stiles, trying to pull Scott's hand free. "Stop!"

"Pain brings us back," said Scott. "Derek showed me when I wolfed out one night. Just like Amy did to Jackson in the factory. Hopefully this will keep her from making the Change." Amy howled again as Scott dug his claws deeper, noting that her skin had finally begun to retract. "It's all right Amy," he whispered, as Stiles gently held her hand.

Both young men's head snapped up when they heard the distinct sound of a thirty pound set of chains hit the ceramic kitchen floor. "Shit!" said Stiles, jumping up. "Jackson's loose." He got closer to the door and suddenly hollered. "No, no, Jackson, don't!"

Jackson pushed by Stiles. He took one look at Scott and Amy on the floor and grabbed the young beta by his hair, flinging him into the wall of the study. "Jackson, no!" cried Amy. "Stop!" She stood up, her wound sealing shut right away.

Jackson rushed Scott, who shot forward with equal force. They slammed into each other before falling to the floor. Jackson's anger gave his latent wolf immense power, as he twisted Scott's wrist until it snapped. The young beta groaned and used his hips to the bump Jackson off of him. He fell onto his back on the rug. In the meantime Amy got between them and straddled Jackson, grabbing both of his wrists. His eyes were engorged with anger, but they were still his eyes. Not the kanima. Not his master either.

"Jackson," she said, breathlessly. "I'm okay. Scott was just trying to help me. I promise."

He struggled for a moment and then finally relented. "What the fuck was he doing that for?" he asked angrily.

Amy looked at Scott and smiled gratefully. "He was keeping me from turning into a full-on wolf and making a few select people very unhappy."

"And very dead," added Stiles, exhaustedly flopping in a large leather chair. He looked at Jackson. "How the hell did you break the chains?"

Jackson relaxed under Amy's force. "Sometimes if I get really pissed I get super strength. I heard Amy scream and I couldn't control myself. The first time I noticed it was when my dad's truck got stuck in the mud. I got so mad, I lifted the damn thing right off the ground."

Amy smiled. "That's your wolf strength coming through."

"You sure it's not kanima strength?" he asked, warily.

"Positive," she said.

"Amy why did you get so upset that you almost turned?" he asked. "What did you find out?"

She swallowed. "Jackson, there's so much I have to tell you. So much. I…" she broke off. She kissed his forehead. "I'm so sorry."

He took her face in his hands. "Sorry for what? Amy," he started.

"I promise it won't be much longer Jackson." She looked down. "I promise. Please trust me."

He softened. "Of course I trust you."

Scott watched both of them, noting the manner in which they looked at each other. He looked at Allison that way. He wasn't mad at Jackson for fighting with him. He couldn't be. Had he seen the same scene when he walked into a room and it was Jackson stabbing Allison, he'd probably take the guy's head off. "So at least we don't have to call Derek now."

"Amen to that," said Stiles.

"Actually guys, I think we should," she said, standing up. Jackson followed her.

"When did you hit your head Amy?" asked Stiles with raised eyebrows.

"Hear me out," said Amy. "I think I might have a pretty solid plan. But we need to get it into place right now."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Amy this idea makes me nervous. On the side of very," said Stiles, peeking at Jackson from the hallway. He'd consented to being chained up again, provided there was some form of closure reached by the end of the day. "Scott what do you think?"

"I think Amy's right. Jackson and Chris need to be face to face. He needs to hear his father confess to what he's done in order to be cured," said Scott.

Amy gazed outside the window at the mid-morning sun. "He thought yesterday was his birthday," she said softly.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"Jackson," she said. "He told me it was his birthday yesterday. His birth certificate said June fifteenth but yesterday was October twentieth. He doesn't even know his real birthday."

"He'll know everything soon enough," said Scott, reassuringly.

Just then the doorbell rang and Stiles went through the living room to get the door. He smirked upon seeing Derek and the pack. "Ringing the bell?" he asked. "How very polite of you. Oh and please wipe your feet. Or is it paws?"

Derek stepped in the doorway. "That was an interesting little tale you spun over the phone this morning, Stiles."

"Yeah well it's all true. Jackson's the kanima. He was actually born a werewolf and the trifecta of weirdness? Chris Argent is his father," said Stiles. "Now if you decide to play along like a good alpha, then we can cure Jackson very soon."

The pack followed Derek into the living room, where he sat down looking rather haggard. "Who came up with the brilliant idea of kidnapping Chris and bringing him here?"

"Amy," said Stiles.

"Uh huh," said Derek. "Where might she be at the moment?"

"She's right here," said Amy, walking into the living room with Scott behind her. Erica jumped up, going to embrace her. Derek grabbed her hand and gave her a venomous glare. Erica quickly sat back down without a word.

Derek stood up. "I'd like a word alone with you." He walked to the front door and opened it, leaving room for her to slip past him. Amy swallowed and stepped outside without argument.

Derek looked her over. "You almost Changed earlier. It's coming off of you like heat from an oven. What happened?"

She looked down. "Jackson's mother was sliced into pieces and left in the woods five days after giving birth."

Derek cringed. "That's harsh even by hunter's standards."

"Yeah," she said. "That's what I was thinking. Someone hated that girl so much that she suffered an unbelievably violent death."

He got closer to her, touching her face. She fought back the urge to cry. "It made you think of your pack," he said. "And your baby."

She sputtered as fresh tears slipped down her cheeks. "Yes."

"And you got so angry you almost Changed. What stopped you?" he asked.

"Scott," she said. "He brought me back with pain."

Derek sighed. "So you want Chris Argent," he said. "This won't be easy. He's heavily protected. That house is like a fortress and he's constantly surrounded by other hunters."

"I'm sure he has weaknesses," said Amy.

"He does," said Derek. "His daughter, Allison."

"Good. We'll use her to get to him," said Amy.

"How?" asked Derek.

"After Stiles got off the phone with you this morning he filled me in on the Allison and Scott saga. Allison's about to have a not-so-secret tryst with Scott. That will draw Chris away from the house," said Amy.

"And his entourage?" Derek asked.

"He'd never sully his daughter's reputation by allowing anyone else to catch her fooling around with a lowly werewolf. He'll go alone," said Amy.

"And Scott didn't have an Emmy award winning hissy fit at this plan?" asked Derek.

"No, he was okay with it as long as I promised not to hurt Chris or Allison," said Amy. "It took me awhile to convince him after I'd threatened to tear out Chris's heart, but he came around."

Derek grinned and pressed into her. "I like hearing about you getting a little violent. Especially against hunters."

"Well as much as you would probably enjoy seeing me rip Chris Argent to shreds, I'm going to need you to reign me in if I start to lose control," she said. "I doubt Jackson wants to be reunited with his father only to watch him die five minutes later."

He pouted. "That's no fun. However," he said, running his fingers through her thick hair. "If you ever want to lose control on me, you're more than welcome to," he whispered. He leaned down and gently bit her lower lip before pulling away.

She bristled. "We've got an important job to do, Derek," she scolded. "Jackson needs our help and you're pulling alpha male bullshit."

He watched her intently for a moment. "Okay you win. Scott can make arrangements with Allison and the pack and I will be waiting to ambush Chris."

"Thank you," said Amy exhaling. "Stiles and I will stay here and keep an eye on Jackson. The kanima master knows something's up so I wouldn't doubt that he or she will try to use Jackson again."

"Then we'd better get moving," said Derek.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Scott and Allison sat alone in his mother's car, the soothing sound of raindrops tapping on the windshield. Allison stared blankly at the birth certificate. Her long, dainty index finger traced over her father's name. "I don't believe this," she said, her lower lids filled with tears. "And the mother was killed?"

Scott rubbed her shoulders. "Yes," said Scott. "It was a very…violent death."

She folded forward and began to cry, her whole world not making the least bit of sense. "I can't believe what I'm hearing," she lamented. "My family…killed her?"

"That's what we believe. That's why it's important to talk with your dad. His account of what happened will help cure Jackson," said Scott.

She leaned into him and felt his strong arms enclose around her. It was the only solace she could enjoy. "I have a brother," she said.

Scott smiled. "That in itself is something to celebrate, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Yeah except we both come from a long line of vicious killers."

"Don't think of it that way, Allison," said Scott. "You don't have to be like them. Neither does Jackson."

"Will you hurt my father to get information?" she asked.

Scott set his jaw. "It depends on how well your dad cooperates. If he isn't eager to share, then Derek and Amy might use muscle to get him to talk. I promise I won't lay a finger on him, though. My priority is helping Jackson."

"Okay," she whispered, looking down at her phone as it buzzed in her hand. "Should I answer it now?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure he's close by now."

She picked up and cringed. "Dad?"

"I'd suggest leaving wherever you are before I get to you," her father said harshly into the phone. "Because I won't be as forgiving as I was the last time I caught you two."

Allison shuddered, remembering the hate in her father's eyes as he aimed a gun at Scott. For a split second, she really thought her father was going to kill the boy she loved. The look in his eyes was terrifying and it only made her believe even more that he could be capable of killing the mother of his child. She took a deep breath, trying to recall the conversation she and Scott rehearsed. "You can't scare me Dad. I know you'd never kill a sixteen-year-old boy."

Her father took a long pause and Allison could feel his ire through the phone. "Do not give me a chance to prove you wrong. Have him drop you off at home and then we are going to have a long discussion when I get back. Do you understand?"

She looked at Scott and he nodded for her to keep going. "I understand very clearly," she choked out. "I understand that I have a tyrant for a father. I'll be eighteen soon and you'll have no power over me anymore," she said angrily. "So if you want to come find us, fine. I'm not stopping you." She quickly hung up and dropped the phone. "That was absolutely terrifying," she said. "You better not be in the car when he gets here just in case he's trigger happy. Let the pack get a hold of him first."

Scott agreed. "You're doing the right thing Allison." He kissed her gently on the cheek before exiting the car and joining Derek and the pack in their hiding spot. It was only four minutes before Chris pulled into the small field behind the high school.

The Tahoe tore up grass and dirt as he heavied his foot on the accelerator towards the car. He came to a halt and exited with a Beretta in his hand. "Where is he?" he asked, angrily, yanking open the door and pulling his only daughter out. "Where godammit?" he said, blue eyes on fire. Allison stayed quiet and moved to the back of the car.

Chris came around to the front, looking into the windshield for the young werewolf. "Scott!" he bellowed. "I thought you were a lot smarter than this."

Suddenly, Chris felt himself being slammed into the hood of the car. A large set of claws appeared in front of his face. "I thought the same about you, Chris."

"Derek," said Chris, struggling under the strength of the alpha. "This has nothing to do with you."

Derek laid his hand upon Chris's and sunk his claws in as deep as they could go. Chris screamed as he felt his tendons ripping. "It's got a whole hell of a lot to do with you though," said Derek.

Erica came around and pulled the Beretta from Chris's hand. She inspected the shiny piece. "Pretty," she said, tracing the barrel with her claws. "But as you can see, useless right now."

Derek lifted Chris by his collar. The older man faced his daughter. "What have you done?" he asked her.

She stepped forward, her eyes growing dark. "Looking for the truth. And helping family."

"You call this helping me?" he asked, turning to see Derek's entire pack plus Scott. "You just hand off your father to our sworn enemies? Allison, do you really hate me this much?"

She shook her head. "No Dad. I could never hate you," she said tearfully. "But you weren't the family I was talking about helping. I meant my half brother." She held up the birth certificate for her father to see. "He was born Christian Bailey," she choked out. "But you probably know him as Jackson Whittemore."

Chris stumbled back into Derek, stunned. "Allison, how? I…" he said looking down in shame. He then felt his own gun slam down upon his head before blacking out.

"Look at that," said Erica, holding the bloody gun in her hand. "Not so useless after all."


	8. Chapter 8

8

_***Thank you for your wonderful reviews and for those reading/alerting. AlongHardKnight, I agree, they must save poor Jackson! Anyhoo, I hope you like this chapter. I've reworked it a lot more than I usually have with past chapters. I kept trying to plug up plot holes. Hopefully I did a good job! And I understand that I've dialed up Derek's douche factor while dialing back Jackson's, but it's just the way the characters come across when I start tapping away at the keyboard. They just seem to take on a life of their own I guess. Thanks!**_

Jackson watched Amy pace the kitchen. "You're going to wear a hole in the floor," he joked. "Why don't you come sit by the guy in the chains for awhile? I'd say I won't bite but we both know that's not true."

She sighed and knelt down next to him. "I'm delaying the inevitable," she said.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Will I have a bad reaction once I hear the truth?"

She gazed into the distance. "No. Well, besides being confused and angry, no."

"I'm already confused and angry," said Jackson. "I've been that way since I was five."

"I know," said Amy. "I'm just worried that you'll retreat further into your own self-loathing when you hear everything. I want to cure you, not make things worse." She took his hand. "You've spent your entire life feeling like you've never been good enough and that you're not worthy of love."

"And you think once I hear the truth I'll self-destruct," he said. "I get it. But, Amy, I've thought about a lot of things lately. I need to know everything if I'm ever going to change. I've hated myself for so long because I didn't know who I really was. I have to face the real Jackson head on. If not for my sake but for yours as well."

"For me?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "You think you're going anywhere after all of this is over? If I'm going to be worthy of the most wonderful girl in the world, then I'd better start working on my self-perception. I refuse to treat anyone the way I treated Lydia. She was a controlling, conniving bitch most times but she still didn't deserve the way I acted."

"So it's true, you broke up with her by text message?" asked Amy.

He looked at her sheepishly. "Not exactly boyfriend of the year, am I?"

"I admit I'm surprised that you'd do that. But you've been so sweet to me. You hurting me hasn't crossed my mind," she said.

"It hasn't crossed mine either," he said smiling. "Which is why I think I'm ready to hear what you have to tell me. And whatever Chris Argent has to tell me, which I won't lie, does actually give me pause."

She kissed his hand. "I can only tell you the basics. Chris has to do the rest. It'll all be over soon," she assured him.

"Why don't we get started then?" he asked.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Stiles jerked his head up from his slumber when he heard Amy enter the living room. He rubbed his tired eyes and patted the couch cushion next to his. "How'd he take everything?"

She flopped down next to him. "He took the whole born wolf thing well, actually. But I can tell he's concerned about Chris coming here. I wish I could tell him everything but he has to hear it from Chris to be cured."

"Once he's cured, will he finally make the Change?" asked Stiles.

"With the help of the pack, yes," she said. "He just needs to be shown the way. There is, of course, the chance that he flips out on Chris, in which case he'll turn right then and there from the anger."

"Eesh," said Stiles. "You know besides the whole 'claws in his taint' thing this is the first time I've ever really felt bad for Jackson. I'm fucked up enough with my mom being dead and my best friend being a werewolf. I can't imagine what I'd do if I heard all of the things he's going to get hit with soon."

"Well luckily he has all of us to support him," she said. She leaned over and kissed Stiles on the cheek. "Thank you for sticking with me on this. I know Jackson isn't your favorite person. It shows great compassion on your part that you'd go through all of this effort for someone you don't really like."

Stiles grinned. "Of course I did it for someone I like. I did it for you."

She smiled brightly. "Prepare yourself," she said.

"For what?" he asked, confused.

"Because I'm going to hug the shit out of you Stilinski," she said, reaching for him.

"No!" he joked, hiding behind a pillow. "Girl germs! Gross!"

She playfully yanked the pillow from him and hit him over the head with it before embracing him. "Thanks," she whispered. "I haven't felt lonely for a full forty-eight hours and that's in large part because of you."

Stiles softened and squeezed her tightly. He was about to reply when they heard the sounds of both Scott's mother and Chris Argent's cars in the driveway. They looked at each other nervously. "Ready or not, here they come," said Stiles.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Chris stumbled forward as Derek pushed him through the front door. The man appeared to have slight vertigo due to the injury to the back of his head. The blood in his hair was beginning to dry and he lightly touched the wound and winced.

Stiles sighed. "Let me guess," he said, looking at Erica. "Your handiwork?" She grinned devilishly in response. He shook his head. "Do you just like beating the crap out of men?"

"Jealous?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "Don't worry, I saved some energy for you."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah because the only thing missing from my day was a gaping head wound."

She giggled. "You know you should take the Bite Stiles. Then I could really work you over the way you secretly want me to."

Stiles gulped and nervously shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Okay enough," growled Derek. "We didn't come here to give Stiles a hard-on. Where's Jackson?" he asked Amy.

"Kitchen," she said, sizing the hunter up. She tried desperately to control her anger. Becoming the Wolf at any time during their meeting would be counterproductive to say the least. Amy had to keep her cool for Jackson's sake on the chance that he'd shift. She swallowed back her rage, at least temporarily. "The famous Chris Argent," she said. "I'd say it's a pleasure but...well, you and I both know that would be a total crock of shit." Her eyes flashed red letting him know her position as alpha.

He cocked his head to the side. "I don't believe it. You're Amy Munroe aren't you?" he asked. "I've heard a lot about you from the Taylor family. The little alpha that could." He looked back at Derek for a moment before turning to her. "I take it your quest for a pack was finally successful."

Derek wore an expression on his face that she couldn't read, but she knew it wasn't good. Stiles noted it as well and looked at Amy, concerned. Allison broke in, carelessly brushing past her father. "We have work to do," she said flatly. "I want to see my brother. Now."

Amy saw the tinge of pain in Chris's eyes. "I'll lead the way," she said, looking back once more at Derek, who maintained his stony expression.

Allison ran and embraced a very confused Jackson. "Allison what's wrong?" he asked. The girl's face was buried in his chest, her body wracked with sobs. Jackson, still chained to the island, looked up at Amy helplessly. "What's going on?"

Derek pulled a chair from the kitchen table and turned it towards Jackson. He gestured for Chris to sit down. "Wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable during your confession," he said.

Chris set his jaw and looked around the room for a possible escape route, but being completely surrounded by the powerful wolf pack, he gave up on that idea. He slumped down into the chair. "You're enjoying this Derek."

Derek snickered. "Oh I definitely am. I'm enjoying the hell out of it." He hoisted himself on the island and sat down. "The only thing that's missing is your fucking bitch of a sister, the great werewolf killer herself, hearing your dirty little secret revealed." Chris glared at him. Derek grinned. "But don't feel bad. I doubt she's going to be rolling over in her grave. After all, she slummed it with me for nearly a year before she killed most of my family." He shrugged. "But the sex," he said, taking off his jacket. "That was amazing. Baby sister knew how to move."

Erica and Boyd snickered while Isaac simply looked at his alpha with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Allison lifted her head from Jackson's chest and stood up, looking at Derek in disbelief. Derek burst out laughing. "That's right Allison. Aunt Kate and I were the Scott and Allison of 2003. You know, for a family of werewolf hunters, you guys sure do seem to enjoy laying down with us when the mood dictates."

Scott went to Allison and put his arm around her, steering the wobbly-legged girl into a chair. "Derek pull it back," he warned with a glare. The alpha simply chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"Can we untie Jackson?" asked Erica, nearly jumping up and down with excitement. "I want to watch him wolf out." Boyd grinned and nodded in agreement.

"Um anyone care to tell me exactly why I will be wolfing out?" asked Jackson. "Or are you guys just going to keep talking about the Argent family banging werewolves all morning?"

"Funny you should bring that up, Jackson," said Derek. "Because that's why you're here. Literally. Chris, care to elaborate?"

"Derek, a word please," said Amy, walking into the living room and out the front door.

Derek sighed and rolled his eyes, following her. When he exited the house, Amy's eyes were blood red and aimed at him. "What?" he asked, indignantly. "You can't tell me this doesn't get you off, Amy. That asshole in there is about to get the biggest comeuppance on Earth and you're actually delaying it?"

"Is there even one tiny part of you that's not a total jerk?" she hissed.

He backed up a step. "What are you talking about?"

"People's lives have been ruined in that kitchen and it's about to get worse. And you're sitting on your high horse, making jokes!" she roared. "You at least have to have some sympathy for Jackson and his mother. Derek, really?"

He grabbed her roughly. "Your entire pack was killed, Amy. You've been lone for months. You mean to tell me that you aren't looking for revenge in some way because of that? Chris may not have killed your pack but another hunter did. A hunter just like him."

"No," said Amy. "That's not true."

"Oh so you have sympathy for hunters now?" he asked. "What kind of an alpha are you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "The kind of alpha whose pack wasn't killed by hunters. They were killed by another wolf pack."

He released her arm and looked at her in shock. "You can't be serious."

"It's the truth," she said. "A forty strong pack. Two alphas. They exterminated everyone but me. They did it in the style of the hunters to remove themselves from suspicion and I guess they assumed no one would believe me if I told anyone what really happened." She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him off of her. "So DO NOT question whom I grant my trust to, Derek. Because I thought every wolf in the world had good intentions and I learned the hard way that wasn't the case."

He searched her eyes in silence for a few moments. He swallowed hard and looked down at his feet. "I-I can't take you in Amy," he said suddenly. "I'm sorry but I can't. If what you say is true then I have too many doubts about you fitting into a pack without major issues."

She set her jaw. "I know. I could tell when Chris asked about me joining the pack that you were really struggling in your decision to take me in. My story usually tips the scales out of my favor. I'm actually not surprised. That's what all the alphas say when they hear the truth. They say I'm too unpredictable. Not trusting enough. Too damaged."

"Amy those words describe me perfectly," said Derek with a rare hint of sympathy in his voice. "Trust me, I know most times I'm clinging onto my last shred of sanity. Hell, two of my betas want nothing to do with me and I went out and chose the three most emotionally damaged kids I could find to take their place. When you showed up, I just thought that maybe you'd be the glue that could hold my pack together. But knowing about what's happened to you and how dozens of other alphas have come to the same conclusion that I have…well, I can't risk it."

She exhaled. "I understand why you made this choice. You have to do what's in your pack's best interest. To be honest I'm so focused on the situation at hand that I'm too distracted to really let the weight of it hit me right now. I came here needing Pack but I realized that I need to help Jackson more." She sighed, feeling herself begin to fade under his look of pity. "Let's get this over with," she said, going back into the house.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Jackson looked at Chris in disbelief. "Are-are you kidding me? This can't be true."

Chris's eyes were bloodshot and wet from crying, as were Allison's. "Jackson, I'm so sorry," said Chris. "Please understand that I had to do this."

"Okay so you gave me up but did you have to kill my mother?" Jackson demanded.

"No," said Chris. "I never hurt Catherine. Jackson, I swear. I didn't kill her."

"He's actually telling the truth," said Derek, listening carefully to Chris's heartbeat. "So, who did the deed Chris?"

"I don't know!" Chris insisted. He looked at Jackson with pleading eyes. "Please believe me."

"Tell us about her," Amy asked.

"She was a beta in an otherwise all male pack that were taken down by hunters somewhere north of here. She was the sole survivor," said Chris. "I wasn't involved but I was friendly with the hunters at that time."

"Tell Jackson what hunters do to packs," said Derek.

Chris paused, not wanting to reveal any more. "We string them up to the trees and…slice them in half."

Jackson looked at Chris in shock. The young man blanched, looking as if he'd be sick.

"Humane, isn't it?" asked Derek bitterly. "Don't forget cattle prods, arrows, wolfsbane bullets, and the list goes on." He walked over to Jackson, inspecting the chains. "So Catherine escaped death once. Then she showed up in Beacon Hills. What happened then?"

"I tracked her for weeks before we finally had it out in the woods near the quarry," said Chris. "I was quite a ways ahead of the rest of my team so we battled one on one. She put up a damn good fight. Eventually claws won over guns and I found myself on my back, thinking I was going to die for certain. She had the upper hand but, for some reason she backed off. She could have slit my throat but she just looked at me with these confused eyes. She wasn't a snarling, snapping beast. We just stayed there, frozen for a few moments before she took off. For the next two days, I thought of nothing but her. Soon after, she began seeking me out. She'd find me when I was alone and we'd talk for hours."

"How long was it before it got physical?" asked Amy.

"Not long," said Chris. "I'd convinced the other hunters that I'd killed Catherine in the woods, and, since none of them knew what she looked like, she'd live in relative safety. We began the affair the year before you were born Jackson. I'd see Catherine several times a week at an apartment that I'd set up for her. Things went very well. She even got a job at the college and was going to teach art classes there starting in the Fall."

"What happened when she got pregnant?" asked Jackson.

"I was terrified," said Chris.

"Who wouldn't be?" asked Amy. "A child who's half wolf, half Argent? Doesn't get more contradictory than that."

"But there was a strong chance that Jackson could have been born human. Right?" asked Stiles.

"Yes," said Chris. "But Catherine knew Jackson was wolf even while in the womb." He looked at Amy. "All wolf mothers know their children well before they are born. Am I right Amy?" he asked.

Amy cringed. Derek watched her intently, his eyes now more sympathetic towards her.

"Amy what's he talking about?" asked Jackson from the floor. "Did something…?" Stiles approached to her left and put a hand on her shoulder, his brown eyes full of questions.

Amy wished then that she'd told them both sooner, along with Scott. It bothered her that Chris knew her secret. It meant that her story was being told in huddled circles among the hunters now. "Yes, you're right."

Jackson looked at Amy, blue eyes pleading. "Amy?"

She squeezed Stiles' hand reassuringly and looked between him, Jackson and Scott. "We'll talk about it soon. I promise," she choked out. She turned back to the group, feeling mostly pity emanating from everyone there. She cleared her throat and steeled herself. "I don't want to lose this thread, Chris. I feel the kanima slipping away with every word. Keep going."

Chris hesitated. "There were obvious differences in the way we wanted to handle the situation. Catherine wanted me to leave my wife but that wasn't an option. I told her I'd support her and the baby for as long as she needed me but I could not lose my wife. Allison was just a baby and we were building our own family."

Jackson laughed bitterly. "Right. And your family had no room for a little bastard child."

Chris turned to Jackson. "You couldn't be a part of my life, Jackson. That would mean I'd have to reveal the affair. Do you know what that would have caused? I wasn't worried that my wife would be upset or leave me. It was so much more dangerous than that! If I exposed my relationship with your mother, you'd both be killed. I couldn't allow that sort of fate to befall either of you."

"Well you must have told someone," said Derek. "Otherwise, why was Catherine murdered?"

"The only people that knew were Jackson's adoptive parents and grandparents. They wanted nothing but Jackson and had no idea that I was a hunter or even what a werewolf was. I swear to that. But my wife and Gerard never said a word to me that would make me think they knew," said Chris.

"Did you even TRY to find out who killed her?" asked Jackson. "Or did you even try to see me in the hospital? Hold me? Anything?"

Chris shook his head. "No."

"What did you do?" asked Stiles. "That situation isn't exactly one you can just wash your hands of without some serious effort. I mean, how was it that Jackson ended up with the Whittemore's?"

Jackson suddenly cringed. "Let me guess. Grandpa Jack."

Chris nodded. "Jackson as you know, your father comes from a highly influential family. Around the time you were born I was working as head of security for your adoptive grandfather, Jack Whittemore, at his financial firm. I was essentially his right hand man. When Catherine disappeared from her hospital bed, I knew I had to act quickly. I went to Jack and told him about the affair and about you. I, of course, left out the hunter and werewolf portions of the story."

"What did he say?" Jackson asked.

"He took pity on me," said Chris. "And as luck would have it, his son and daughter-in-law couldn't have kids and were desperate for a child. Jack did everything he could to speed up the adoption process. He was able to use his clout to skip most of the legalities involved in normal adoptions. Your birth records were temporarily sealed and you were given over to the Whittemore's without one person batting an eyelash."

"What about the nurses and the doctor that delivered Jackson?" asked Stiles. "None of them remember him?"

"Jackson's grandfather made all those arrangements," said Chris. "My name and Catherine's name were not included in those arrangements.

"So then other people could potentially know about what really happened to Jackson," said Scott.

"If they do they've kept their mouths shut for seventeen years," said Chris. "Jackson, your grandfather was a brilliant man. If he had a plan it was airtight."

"Not exactly," said Stiles. "Jackson's mother ended up dead. I'd say that plan was less airtight and more bungled beyond repair."

"Jackson was safe and has remained as such. I was free to go back to Washington with Allison and Victoria. The Whittemore's got a beautiful child that they love more than anything," argued Chris. "I stand behind Jack's plan."

Amy could feel Jackson's heart rate begin to increase. "Well that's just perfect Chris. A real happy ending," he spat. "So my real father and my adoptive grandfather, who I actually admired up until five minutes ago, treated my mother's death as a loose end. She was soon forgotten about and the world just kept spinning." He cleared his throat. "You never stopped to think for one second that the so-called healthy baby boy would spend the majority of his life wondering who you were, if you ever thought about him, or loved him."

"And you kept a brother and sister apart for seventeen years," added Allison.

Chris swallowed hard. "I did it to protect you. To keep you alive, Jackson."

"What about Jackson's birthday?" Stiles asked. "He thought he was born in October but his birth certificate says June."

"Jack arranged for your real birth certificate to be replaced in the public records with one that did not include my name or Catherine's name. They also changed the date of birth to October 20th so that your mother's killer or some cop working on Catherine's cold case would never suspect that you were our son." Chris stood up and walked to Jackson, kneeling in front of him. "You have a great life. Look at you. You've got everything. Looks, popularity, money and two parents that love you. What more could you ask for?"

"Not turning into a giant lizard that kills people would be nice," said Jackson. "And you can save the speech about all the things that I have going for me. You're only saying that to keep yourself from having any guilt or regrets about abandoning me and leaving my mother's death unavenged."

"Would you have really wanted to grow up with me as a father?" asked Chris. "Hunting and killing the very things that you are? You'd be a pariah in the Argent family. And even if you were actually accepted, what about the responsibility all the men in my family have? Jackson Whittemore, an obedient little soldier? I may not have been around while you were growing up but I know you'd never sit back and take orders from anyone. That's no way for you to live."

"No, instead I'll soon become the one thing you hate the most. I'm curious Chris, how long were you in town before you knew who I really was?" asked Jackson.

Chris shriveled a bit under Jackson's gaze. "Allison pointed you out at a lacrosse game. You look just like Catherine so I knew right away."

"It must have been tough when you realized how badly Jackson wanted the Bite," said Scott.

Chris nodded. "Yes. It killed me to watch you pursue it with such enthusiasm. I was terrified that even just the thought of the Bite would awaken your wolf," said Chris.

"Tell me this," said Jackson. "Had that happened, would you have hunted me down, strung me up to a tree and sliced me in two? Would you have done it despite knowing how my mother spared your life, bore your child and loved you?"

Chris looked down at his feet.

"You know what? I already know the answer. You implied it pretty heavily when I went to Derek's house that day and found you there," said Jackson. He looked at Chris, his eyes suddenly glowing bright blue. "Admit it Chris. You'll kill me if I change or go pack. You'll kill your own son. I don't get any special privileges just for being your mistake."

"No!" said Allison, standing up. "Dad that can't be true. Please tell him. You wouldn't. Would you?"

Chris closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. "The Argent family name binds me to a certain purpose, I can't abandon my…"

Jackson leaned forward. "Come on DAD. Tell Allison what you'd do to her baby brother if you weren't surrounded by a wolf pack right now. Tell her what you'd do to her if she's ever bitten," he hissed. "FUCKING SAY IT OUT LOUD!" he roared, his body heaving against the chains, exposing his new fangs with a snarl. Chris backed away, instinctively going to Allison to shield her. Her eyes were wide in disbelief as she watched Jackson thrash, a powerful growl emanating from his throat.

Derek grinned. "Bye bye, kanima."

"He's so beautiful!" said Erica excitedly.

"Why do his eyes glow blue?" asked Isaac.

"He's a beta that was born a werewolf, like I was," said Derek, smiling. "Welcome home Jackson."

Jackson struggled with the rage flowing through his veins. He bellowed, the chains beginning to give way. Amy quickly knelt beside him. "Get Chris out of here," she said to Scott.

"What?" Derek asked. He blocked Scott. "Don't move, Scott. I say we let him out of the chains and let him do what he was built for. But that's just my opinion. What does the rest of the pack think?"

"Yes!" Erica exclaimed. "Let him tear into the hunter!"

Isaac watched Jackson with interest. He cocked his head to the side. "By the looks of him he could tear into twenty hunters right now."

"No," said Amy, holding Jackson's face. "Jackson, look at me. Look at me, okay? You can't let the rage take over. Just breathe and try to find the calm. Try. You're not a killer, remember?"

"Amy it hurts," he rasped. "It's like killing him feels like the only thing that will stop the pain."

"It's the Change. It always hurts at first until you learn to control it," she said. "You can't let it do this to you. Killing Chris is not going to make things better. Try to focus. Just look at me and try to calm yourself."

"Jackson," said Scott, going to his side. "You have to find your anchor." He looked at Allison, who watched Jackson with deep concern. He turned back to Jackson. "Allison's mine. I think you already know what yours is," he said, looking at Amy.

Jackson nodded. He looked into Amy's eyes and knew she would be the key to finding his center. He took in every line and curve of her face and wished she'd come into his life so much sooner. The scent of her skin hit his nose and he relished it with every inhalation. The spasms in his body lessened in intensity. "Amy," he said, his breathing beginning to slow. The pain began to recede and soon his fangs retracted and his eyes no longer flashed. "I'll be okay."

She wrapped her arms around him and he felt love wash over him, quickly diluting his remaining anger. "Thank you," he whispered, breathlessly.

Amy kissed him softly on his lips. "I'd do it a million times over, Jackson.

He smiled at her before looking up at Chris. "I only have one more thing to ask you."

Chris nodded. "You want to know if I love you," he said, sadly.

"No," said Jackson. "I really don't. Because frankly either answer would be a disappointment. I want to know where my mother was buried."


	9. Chapter 9

9

*Hi all—So this one goes in many different directions. I apologize for any jumping around. Also Jackson and Amy have some alone time so not good reading material for the youngun's. Oh and I swear I didn't make up the name of the county clerk. Thank you for reading and for such nice reviews!

Jackson and Allison knelt on the ground before the small headstone. He gently placed a bouquet of flowers on the ground in front of it. The siblings sat in silence for a time, gazing at the words etched into the stone. Jackson noted that the day was unseasonably warm and the sun alit Allison's dark hair, making it seem to sparkle in the light. He smiled. "Should I...talk to her?"

"Sure."

He looked back at the gravestone. "What should I say?"

Allison stood up and kissed the top of his head. "Something no one else knows."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Allison, grinning. "All moms like to hear juicy stuff like that. Especially from their teenaged child. They like to know that we still want to confide in them."

Jackson nodded. "Thanks," he said. After she walked away to give him some space, he got comfortable and sat crossed-legged in the grass. He cleared his throat nervously. "H-Hi, Mom. It's Jackson, I mean, I'm sorry, it's Christian." He took a deep breath, feeling more nervous than he'd imagined he would be. "I'm sorry I never got a chance to visit you before this. I only just recently found out about you."

He felt his throat tighten slightly. "You know I never got the opportunity to get to know you but I want to tell you that I thought of you every day after my parents told me I was adopted. My friend Stiles actually found a nurse that used to work in the maternity ward and she remembered you. She said that when she handed me to you that you said it was the best day of your life," he said smiling. "I just realized that I called Stiles my friend. But I guess that's what I'm supposed to call a guy that helped to save my life, right? And then there's McCall. I'm still not sure what to call him yet. It's actually kind of a funny story on how our weird relationship came about. You see he's a werewolf too but he was bitten and…"

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Amy, Scott and Stiles watched Jackson from the woods, staying a safe enough distance away so that they weren't privy to what he was saying at his mother's grave. "He's so different now," said Stiles.

"He's been shown the way," said Amy.

"He couldn't have done it without you," said Scott.

"I can't take all the credit. You two were the best," she said.

"How about Allison?" asked Stiles. "How's she taking things?"

"She's thrilled about Jackson being her brother," said Scott. "But I think she's eventually going to distance herself from the Argents. The look of contempt for her father made me realize that."

"So what happens now?" asked Stiles. "Derek refused you Amy. What will you do? You're not leaving are you?" he asked nervously.

She patted his arm. "Don't worry Stiles, I won't leave." She looked down at Jackson. "I have reasons to stay now."

"Good," said Scott. "Because I've been thinking."

"I thought I heard the distinctive squeak of a hamster wheel," joked Stiles.

Scott chuckled and stuck his tongue out at Stiles. "What will you do without a pack?" he asked Amy.

"Well I'm sure Jackson would want to be your beta, right?" asked Stiles.

"To be honest we haven't discussed it yet. He only made the Change a short time ago," said Amy. "I'll be okay. Like I said, alphas can survive without a pack. It's just not the preferred way to live. It will be difficult but I can do it." She looked over at Scott, realizing he'd been watching her intently. "What is it, Scott?" she asked.

"I hate the idea of packs," said Scott. "I really do. One leader controlling the whole group doesn't sit right with me."

"I can understand Scott, I mean you've…" started Amy.

"Hang on," he said, softly, laying a warm hand upon hers. "You didn't let me finish. I was going to say that even though I'm not crazy about packs, I think you kick ass as an alpha. I mean, you're decisive and smart and you respect everyone's opinion. I think with you I'd be given a lot of freedom and also be valued. So…will you accept me into your pack?"

Amy looked between Scott and Stiles in confusion. "Are you being serious?" she asked, with tears welling in her eyes.

"I wouldn't joke about that," said Scott, smiling. "So what do you say? Are we Pack?"

Amy leapt forward and hugged Scott, knocking the young man on his back in a fit of giggles. "We're Pack," she said, kissing his forehead. " Thank you, Scott. This means more to me than you know."

"Me too," said Scott, squeezing her tightly before playfully tossing her into the air. She did a flip and landed upright, barely even disturbing the leaves under her feet.

"Nice," said Stiles appreciatively. "Very Mary Lou Retton."

Amy grinned devilishly before charging Stiles and knocking him on his back. She straddled him, pinning his hands near his ears. "Okay Amy," he said, "I'll give you fifteen to twenty minutes to stop that."

"What about you Stilinski?" she asked. "Hmmm?"

"What about me?" he asked. "Oh and feel free to wiggle around a bit while you're on top of me."

Scott burst out laughing. "Stiles, I think she's asking you if you want to take the Bite."

"I know what she's asking," said Stiles, never taking his eyes off Amy.

"Then what say you?" asked Amy, her lips curled into a smirk.

"I say," said Stiles, unexpectedly bucking his hips and knocking her on her back. He offered a mischievous giggle as he put his weight on her, whispering in her ear. "That I'll come to you when I'm ready."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Allison strolled back down the path of gravestones, seeing Jackson sitting with his back turned to her. She went to him and gently squeezed his shoulder. He didn't turn to face her, but reached back and put his hand on hers. She saw him wiping his eyes and knelt down next to him.

"She wanted me," he said, sounding almost surprised. "She loved me."

"Of course she did," said Allison. "Who wouldn't love you like crazy?"

He laughed. "Take a poll at school on that and see what kind of answers you get."

"They don't know you," she said. "But I do. Amy does. And Stiles and Scott wouldn't have tried so hard to save you if they didn't care about you either." She stood up. "Come on, little brother. Let's spend some quality time together before we start fighting like regular siblings do. This is our honeymoon period. Let's enjoy it."

He smiled and stood up, taking one last look at his mother's grave. "Bye Mom. I'll be back soon."

Allison took his hand as they walked back to her car. "So what did you tell her? Your secret…will you share it with me?"

He nodded. "I told her about this beautiful girl I met named Amy and how she helped save my life. And helped me find my real parents."

"Yeah? And what did you tell her about this girl?" she asked.

He inhaled, taking in Amy's scent. She was close by, watching him. That made him flush with excitement for her. "I told her that I'd fallen in love with her."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Jackson yawned and stretched. "God it's only eight o'clock but I could go to bed right now."

Amy lifted her head from his chest. "Well you haven't gotten much sleep in a long time. Want to go to bed?"

He kissed her. "Yeah. It cooled off a lot. Let's get the fire going in the master bedroom and sleep for, like, three weeks straight."

"That is an offer I can't refuse," she said, turning off the television.

As Jackson got the fire going, Amy undressed and slipped under the comforter. She groaned under the weight of the last few days. She was thrilled that Jackson was able to make the Change after so many years. However, there was still the task of finding the kanima master and executing some form of justice against said individual. Amy decided to put that matter aside for the night so that she and Jackson could get some rest.

He pulled off his t-shirt and jeans and snuggled up to her. She caressed his bare chest and tummy while listening to his soft breathing. "I want to talk about your baby," said Jackson. "We don't have to right now. But soon, okay?"

She nodded and swallowed hard. "Okay." They lay and listened to the fire for a time. She took his hand and kissed it. "How did it go today visiting with your mom?" she asked.

She suddenly felt him grin. "You tell me. You and the Hardy Boys were there the whole time."

Amy chuckled. "Ah, that's right, I forgot. Can't get anything past my werewolf boyfriend, can I?"

"Your what?" he asked, tickling her. "What's that you say? I didn't quite catch that. Something about a boyfriend?"

"Whoops," she said, biting her lip. "That one kind of got away from me. Here," she said, opening her mouth and pretending to stuff something in before making a locking motion. "I put it back."

"Don't you dare," he said getting on top of her, trying to kiss her. "Give it back, woman." She jokingly struggled and kept her lips shut tight, shaking her head 'no'. "Oh I see I'm going to have to work for it," he said, gently holding her wrists. She shivered while he nipped her earlobe, his hot breath causing her to let out a small cry.

He released her wrists so that he could pull her shirt off. "Lay on your belly," he whispered. She obeyed, enjoying the feel of the cool sheets on her stomach and bare breasts. His index finger traced a line from her neck to the small of her back and he mimicked the path with small, hot kisses.

Jackson felt her hips begin to move in a circular motion as he continued his trail of kisses, nibbling on the spot where her behind met her thigh. Her heart was thrumming and her scent was strong. She was ready, and so was he.

She felt her panties being slipped off. Amy tried to move to face him but he stopped her. "Stay like that," he said softly. He removed his boxers and applied his weight on her. Next, he placed his hands on her breasts, slowly teasing her nipples until erect. "Jackson," she moaned when he slid into her. Their bodies moved in perfect sync under the covers. Soon their excited sighs gave way to the soothing sound of the crackling fire.

Later, as he held her, he thought of what he'd told his mother at her gravesite. Amy had already been pulled into sleep. "Amy?" he whispered. She didn't stir, so he knew he was safe to say what had been at the tip of his tongue. Jackson tried several times to say it, wanting it to be perfect. Finally, he relaxed, knowing she couldn't hear him. This one would be practice. "I love you."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Oh my God," said Stiles, moaning into his massive plate of chocolate chip pancakes. "Jackson these pancakes make me want to touch myself. Or you. I haven't decided."

"Please don't. Not in the kitchen, Stiles," said Jackson. "This is my favorite room of the house. Don't go giving me bad images."

Scott watched his friend in amusement. "Well Jackson they say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. You may want to avoid being alone with Stiles around your food."

Stiles swallowed and looked earnestly at Jackson. "What are you making for dinner tonight?"

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "You realize my parents are coming home in four days, dude. There won't be too many more dinner invites when they're home."

"Then we shall meet in secret, under the cover of night," he said in his British accent. "Our food romance still has four days left. So seriously what's for dinner tonight?"

"Stiles we have a kanima master to find," said Scott.

"All the more reason that we should have the proper fuel for our bodies and minds," argued Stiles. "Right?"

"I was thinking chicken Marsala," said Jackson. "Or, hey, you know what? It's supposed to be really nice tonight. Maybe I'll do sirloins on the grill. I can make this creamy mushroom sauce and I do red potatoes with butter in the tin foil. The potatoes get so soft and…"

"Oh Jackson please don't stop I'm almost there," said Stiles, clutching the edge of the island, eyes rolling back in his head.

Jackson chuckled and looked at Scott. "Can you please control him?"

"Rarely if ever," said Scott, shaking his head. "Food has always been like pornography for Stiles. My mom and I took him to this seafood cook-off one year when we were about thirteen. My mom freaked out because we lost Stiles for about twenty minutes. When we found him, he was sitting at a table full of mortified people, licking the butter from his fingers with the carcass of a four pound lobster that he managed to inhale by himself."

"Yikes," said Jackson, laughing. "I'm just busting your chops anyway Stiles. I'm glad you like my food. I'm happy to make it."

"So," said Stiles, winking at Jackson. "How are things?"

"Things?" asked Jackson. "Elaborate for me please."

"You know what I mean. You and A-"

Scott put his hand over Stiles' mouth and shook his head. "I'll rephrase my friend's original question. Are you her beta or what?"

Stiles pulled Scott's hand away. "That totally wasn't my question, but okay," said Stiles.

Jackson smiled. "Was there any doubt? Of course I am."

Scott grinned. "Good. So we're pack mates. Did you ever think you'd see the day?"

Jackson shook his head. "Not for a second. In fact I thought we'd have killed each other by now." He turned to Stiles. "You know, one more beta and Amy will have a complete set."

Stiles hastily shoveled a forkful of pancakes into his mouth and looked down, shrugging. "Um hmm," he mumbled.

"Oh now you're getting bashful?" asked Jackson. "Are you afraid of the Bite itself or making the Change?"

"I think it's more hunters chasing him at every turn," said Scott. "Stiles has seen plenty of downsides to taking the Bite."

Jackson nodded. "Yeah," he said. "But you have to admit, we'd make a great pack. A whole lot better than Derek and his clowns."

Stiles swallowed and looked thoughtful. "True."

"And you love Amy to death. And you'd be with me," said Scott. "Like real brothers."

Stiles met eyes with Scott but didn't speak.

"No pressure Stiles," said Jackson. "We're just giving you every angle to consider."

Stiles nodded. "Thanks guys. I'm sure I'll make a decision soon. Thanks for the input. Hey, what's taking Allison and Amy, by the way? They should have been back by now."

Jackson's phone rang and Scott noted that it was Allison. " Speak of the devil. Dude, she calls you more than she calls me," he joked.

"Eh, my novelty will wear off eventually," said Jackson, picking up the phone and smiling. "Yes my darling sister? How did you make out at the doctor's today?"

"Are Scott and Stiles with you?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"Yeah they are," he said. "Everything okay?"

"Put me on speaker," she instructed.

Jackson did so and the three young men listened to Allison's somewhat shaky voice. "Okay so I think Amy and I got some answers. Due to a poorly planned shift change at the nurse's station and me faking a fainting spell, Amy was able to sneak into the records room to get access to Jackson's records. Or lack thereof. There was absolutely no trace of any paperwork relating to Jackson anywhere."

"What do you mean?" asked Jackson. "I've been to that doctor a hundred times for lacrosse injuries. How could there not be any records?"

"Because something's rotten in Denmark," said Stiles. "I had a feeling that doctor had something to do with this. But I still don't see him as kanima master. What would his motive be? He wasn't the doctor that delivered Jackson according to that nurse we found."

"Right," said Scott. "But maybe he was employed there around the time Jackson was born."

Stiles shook his head. "No, it's not that. I can tell. Jackson, exactly what did he tell you when he examined the scratch from Derek?"

"He said the scratch was fine but that I had mild wolfsbane poisoning," said Jackson.

"I'm sorry but that's a little suspect, guys. How would the doctor, after a very short routine exam, be able to pinpoint the very obscure diagnosis of wolfsbane poisoning? I mean, it takes Dr. House an entire episode to make his diagnoses," said Stiles. "Like I said, something's rotten. Jackson, you're going back to that doctor. I'd love to see him explain away the fact that you have no records."

Jackson nodded. "Scott, your mom was there the day I got examined."

"She'll be there later today as well," said Scott.

"That could prove to be helpful," said Stiles. "You could probably skip having to make an appointment if you just show up and flash that panty-dropping smile of yours Jackson."

"Stiles, pantry-dropping? What are you implying about my mom?" asked Scott.

"Oh please," said Stiles. "Jackson's record speaks for itself. Hell, after tonight's steak dinner I'll probably make a pass at him myself. Allison can you put Amy on the phone?"

"We split up at the medical center. She's on her way to the county clerk's office now," said Allison.

"Okay we'll split up too," said Stiles. He grabbed his phone and started typing something in. "Allison, you head home and see if you can find anything in your father's records, provided he doesn't hide them behind two armed Pinkerton guards, that is. Scott, you and Jackson head to the medical center and I'll meet Amy at the county clerk's." Stiles looked up from his phone and noted that Scott and Jackson were giving him amused looks. "What?" he asked.

Allison could be heard giggling on the other end of the line. "Amy said you could get all drill sergeant sometimes."

"I prefer to call it bossy," said Scott, giggling.

"Yeah well I prefer to call it effective," said Stiles. "Jackson since you beat the ever loving shit out of my Jeep can I borrow a vehicle from the expansive Whittemore fleet?"

Jackson smiled. "Take your pick."

"My pick? Seriously?" asked Stiles. "Like my pick from that humongous garage?"

Jackson nodded. "I'm serious. And I promise I'll get the Jeep to the auto body place this week. In the meantime, keep whatever you decide to drive."

Stiles and Scott exchanged looks. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Scott asked.

Stiles giggled uncontrollably and sprinted to the front door. "Thank you!" he called on his way out.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"I'm sorry hun," said the stocky woman behind the counter. "But I can't give you any information without a written request first." Her hideous lime green necklace was only offset by the garish shade of red that she dyed her hair.

Amy tried not to scrunch her nose at the smell of the dye and put on her best puppy dog expression. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize that. I'll fill out whatever forms you want. I'll write the request on a Wal-Mart receipt. Anything. Please let me in to the records today?"

"Look you seem like a real sweet girl but there are procedures we have to follow." She adjusted her thick glasses. "I can't be letting you in because then I'd have to let everyone in. Now you need to go home and get on your computer and type out a written request. Then mail the form care of the county clerks office. I'll contact you in fourteen business days if…"

"Fourteen?" Amy asked. She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "Shit," she said under her breath. "Okay thank you ma'am," she said. 'I'll just break in after dark,' she said to herself.

As she pushed open the door to the quiet office, Derek stood on the other side of it, along with Stiles. The alpha male grinned. "Need a little help?"

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Stiles?" she asked, turning to the younger man.

"You haven't been in Beacon Hills very long so I'm sure you haven't been introduced to the lovely Fanny Wigglesworth, the county clerk," said Stiles. "I happen to know her well as she's said the word 'no' to me several hundred times during the course of our working relationship. She's the natural enemy of anyone seeking knowledge in under two weeks time." He clapped Derek on the shoulder. "Ah, but like every enemy, it's best to learn their weaknesses. That's where Derek comes in."

Amy rolled her eyes. "I take it Fanny likes really hot guys who know how to talk women out of their clothes."

"Bingo!" said Stiles.

Amy bit her lip. "I'm sorry but…Fanny Wigglesworth? You're making that up Stiles," she said, giggling.

"I assure you ma'am, I am not. Do your worst, Derek," he said, peeking through the door at Fanny. "And for God's sake wear protection."

Derek winked at Amy before strolling into the office. "You called me 'really hot'," he whispered, smirking. "Stiles is my witness."

She stuck out her tongue. "Good luck chatting up a chick that's named Fanny Wigglesworth," she whispered back.

"Hey with a name like Wigglesworth it's got to be good," he joked. Derek sauntered to the counter and leaned on his elbows. "Hi," he said flashing a smile. "I'm wondering if you can help me."

Fanny's eyes widened with interest upon seeing the extremely attractive man in front of her. Amy could smell her hormone levels increasing and could see the dilation of her pupils. She scoffed. "Ugh, he's such a douche bag yet he could bang any woman he wants."

Stiles giggled. "Yeah well I used to say the same thing about Jackson. Besides, Derek couldn't sleep with you. So he can't have EVERY woman, can he?"

She softened. "That was very smart of you to bring him. You continue to impress me, young Stilinski."

"It's a tough job but somebody's gotta do it," he said. He observed Derek and Fanny's interaction through the crack in the door. "I think she's primed. Now's the time."

"Okay there's a back way in, and the door is marked 'E-3'. I'll sneak past Fanny and let you in that door, okay?" she asked.

"You got it," said Stiles, turning right down an adjacent corridor, headed for the back entrance.

Amy effortlessly slipped past the front desk and stayed light on her feet while entering the massive records area. Fortunately Fanny worked alone so there were no other humans to worry about. Except, of course, Stiles. Amy took a deep breath before opening the door for the young man. Her instinct to give him the Bite was getting stronger and she knew before long it would become difficult if he continued to deny her. It had been a very long time since she'd become enamored enough with a human to make them beta. Jackson and Scott were wonderful additions to her pack, but they were already wolf. They had simply come together as a pack out of pure luck.

Stiles, however, was different. Amy had consciously chosen him. Once an alpha became attached to a human, it was extremely difficult to turn back. The alpha would become, at first, enticed by the human's scent, voice and, occasionally, taste. Enticement had a tendency to lead to desire, then a deep yearning which could then progress into the risk of the alpha losing control and biting the human against their will. She only hoped she could stave off the urge, wanting to give Stiles the freedom to make his own decision regarding the Bite. Amy just hoped he wouldn't make her wait too long.

She opened the door and smiled, taking another deep breath at the introduction of his scent. "Piece of cake," she said.

He nodded. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she said, rubbing her hands against her jeans nervously. "Just want to get in and out of here."

"I hear that," he said, walking past her. "Okay let's get moving."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Jackson, as cute as you are I can't just skip over all of the other people who have been waiting to let you in to see Dr. Wentworth," said Melissa McCall. She looked at her son. "You know better Scott."

"Mom please," said Scott. "Jackson's in serious pain."

"Look I know a groin pull can be a real bitch but both of you guys have dealt with them before. It's part of being an athlete. Jackson, I'll get you a pain reliever and the two of you can go sit in the waiting room." Jackson and Scott both looked at her pleadingly. She sighed. "Okay, again, as cute as those two faces are, I'm still saying 'no'," said Melissa, shuffling both boys back into the waiting room. "Go sit," she said in her usual authoritative tone.

Scott sighed heavily and looked around at the packed waiting room. "So much for Stiles' panty-dropping theory. It's going to be hours, Jackson. Let's take a walk or something. I'll have my mom text me when they're ready."

The two young men exited the hospital bay doors and began walking along the side of the building and into an alleyway. "That went well," said Jackson. "Good thing I healed from Amy's claws when I turned wolf because that wait would suck if I was still in pain."

"Yeah," said Scott. "You know what else is going to suck? When Derek finds out we joined Amy's pack."

Jackson nodded. "Yeah I've been thinking about that. You don't think he'd try to hurt her, do you?"

"I never know with him," said Scott. "But we should be ready for the worst."

"I agree," said Jackson, his eyes flashing blue. "And if the two of us have to tear out his throat for messing with her, then so be it."

"Big talk for someone who's only been wolf for one day," said a voice from behind them. Jackson and Scott spun around to see Gerard Argent's sickening smile.

Jackson quickly spun on his heels and Scott rushed to hold him back. "I've been wolf my whole life, you asshole."

Scott held tightly to Jackson's left arm and tucked his other arm under Jackson's armpit, holding onto his right shoulder for dear life. "Jackson if you get too angry you'll Change. You have to control it," he whispered.

Gerard looked at the boys with sinister eyes. "Yes Jackson, Scott's right. And that's mighty coarse language for your old grandpa. It looks like I'll have to teach you some respect."

Jackson sneered. "Oh yeah? With what, a sword to my middle? A cattle prod up my ass?"

Gerard laughed. "Pick your poison Jackson. Whatever we do, we'll be sure to have your shiny new alpha on hand to watch every second of it."

Jackson lurched forward again. Scott held fast. "Gerard just get the hell out of here."

"Yeah, go home and concentrate on punishing your son," said Jackson angrily. "He was the one that caused this whole mess in the first place. And fuck with my alpha and you'll wish YOU were never born, let alone me," he growled.

Gerard chuckled and moved closer to Jackson until he was just inches from his face. "Well look at you, puffing your chest. Just like your father was at your age."

"How did you even find out?" Scott asked. "Chris told us you and Victoria didn't know."

"We didn't. Not until last night that is," said Gerard. "You see, my son has always had a bad habit of talking in his sleep. Not a very good thing if you're in the business that we're in, is it? Well, he was awfully chatty after he dozed off in his study last night. He told me LOTS of interesting little tidbits. Quite a saga, wouldn't you say Jackson?"

"Go to Hell you arrogant fucker," said Jackson. "Or better yet, let me send you there myself," he said, moving to charge the man. Scott held to Jackson with every bit of strength he possessed. Jackson's newfound power made Scott feel as if he was trying to stop a train from derailing. He was terrified that the newly changed wolf would transform in broad daylight in a public place.

Gerard simply stood there with his infuriating grin. "You know," he said. "I heard all about little Amy Munroe. Such a shame. It was surely the pack instinct that kept her alive, even though those wolves annihilated the rest of her family. They just couldn't bring themselves to kill her. That raw power she possesses puts any male to shame."

"Stay away from her Gerard," warned Scott.

"Oh but I can't," said Gerard. "Because we hunters simply LOVE the females. Do you know that their capacity for pain is much higher than the males? Electric shocks don't really work, and catching them long enough to hang them from a tree is unreasonable because they'll only break free with their claws. So do you know what we do to them? We get them with wolfsbane-laced arrows, so they can't heal as quickly. Then we secure them to a flat surface and make several strategically placed slices on the skin. Next, well how do I describe it? Have you ever seen a rabbit skinned? It's similar to that except the female is alive and conscious at the time."

Scott felt his claws dig into Jackson's arm as he now struggled to control the Change in himself. The threat to Amy's life was awakening his protective nature as beta and, if Scott planned on Gerard making it out of the alley alive, he knew it was time to make a quick exit. "Jackson," he whispered. "We need to get out of here. It's not safe to be out in the open like this."

"Oh don't go," said Gerard mockingly. "I was just getting to know my new grandson. You know Jackson if you think about it, had you been welcomed into our family when you were a baby, your life would be entirely different. You'd have been a hunter. A strong one, too. You could have helped me fillet Amy Munroe alive. But that's okay. I'll soon have the pleasure of doing it myself."

"No!" Scott screamed, as Jackson broke free of Scott's grip and thrust a clawed hand into Gerard's abdomen with extreme force, lifting him into the air. The older man looked into Jackson's eyes in shock, grasping at the young man, his feet dangling two feet off the ground.

"Jackson stop," said Scott, trying to pull back his pack mate. "Please!"

However Jackson's eyes glowed like blue fire in his rage. "I warned you," he growled. Gerard's struggling began to wane and he soon went limp. Jackson slammed the man into the concrete, cracking his skull open.

"Oh my God," said Scott, looking at Gerard's prone form. He looked frantically around for any security cameras but it appeared as if they were in a blind spot. "Jackson," he said grabbing him by the shoulders. Jackson simply looked at the ground, stunned by what he'd just done. "Jackson go," said Scott. "Go! I'll tell everyone I found him out here like this. Jackson, please you have to go now. Get to the car. I'll meet you back at your house."

"I…" started Jackson. "He said he was going to kill us and then…Amy," he said, his eyes wide with terror. "I couldn't control it, Scott."

"I know. It was your instinct to protect your own," said Scott, trying to remain as calm as he possibly could. "Jackson you need to go. Now. Please. I'll meet you at the house. It'll be okay. I'll take care of this." He took off his sweatshirt and handed it to Jackson. "Hold this to disguise the blood on your hand. I'll call Amy and get her back with you as soon as I can. Please Jackson," he whispered. "Go."

Jackson took one last horrified look at Gerard before exiting the back alley and sprinting to his car. Scott ran his fingers through his hair and knelt down next to Gerard. The older man's heart no longer pulsed and his eyes had begun to cloud over. Scott took a deep breath and fought back vomit. He set his jaw. His purpose now was protecting Jackson and the pack. The instinct set in, willing him to stand up and execute a plan that would keep his wolf family safe. He ran back into the medical center. "Mom!" he cried. "Mom, Allison's grandfather is in the alley. It looks like someone may have stabbed him. I—I think he's dead."


	10. Chapter 10

10

****Hi all—So it will be the usual. Derek and Amy argue (shock), more Argent drama and Stiles gets laid. Thanks for reading and for your wonderful reviews!**

Scott flew into Jackson's house and moved swiftly up the stairs. When he got to Jackson's bedroom, he found the young man sitting at the edge of the bed, nervously biting his nails, his left knee bouncing a mile a minute. He seemingly didn't even notice the crowd of people and wolves circling the room, talking frantically. Scott joined Jackson at the edge of the bed, putting a hand on his shoulder. Jackson looked up at him, offering a weak smile to show that he appreciated his new packmate's gesture. "They've been at it for nearly an hour and a half," said Jackson, nodding to Derek and Amy, who were engaged in a heated argument near one of the windows. The rest of the pack watched them with great interest, preferring to remain quiet while the two alphas duked it out. Stiles, however, stood between them and did his best to play referee.

"Amy I don't know why you're fighting me on this. Gerard deserved to die. He was an evil, sadistic bastard," said Derek. "Where's the bad here?"

"Look, Derek I'm not arguing that point but my concern right now is the remaining Argents seeking revenge. The medical examiner will chalk this up to some sort of an animal attack or at least try to explain it away in the most logical terms possible. The Argents are going to know damn right well that a wolf was the culprit," said Amy. She looked over at Jackson with sympathy in her eyes. "And chances are, Chris will immediately suspect Jackson after everything that's happened."

"Fine," said Derek. "So what's your big plan Amy? Are you just going to sit in this house, waiting for Chris to pull up with his gang of hunters?"

"My plan right now is talking with Stiles, Scott and Jackson about what we're going to do," she said.

He scoffed. "So you're just going to cut me out of the equation?" He nodded towards Jackson and Scott. "No offense to the two of them but Jackson's only good for sitting there looking pretty and Scott gets confused watching Dora the Explorer. So you've got Stiles. Stiles. Really?"

Amy growled. "Watch how you talk about them."

"Yeah Derek," said Stiles, indignantly. "I'll have you know that last week Scott was able to operate a coffee maker successfully without any help from me. I mean it tasted like road tar and sand but still, score one for Scott. And Jackson, well…" he said, pretending to wipe tears from his eyes. "That man can make a pork chop that will make you have a religious experience. And me? Come on Derek, I'd like you to name ONE time that you were in a sticky situation and I didn't help you."

"Oh like the time you got me arrested? That time?" asked Derek.

Stiles struggled for an answer. "Okay fine so ONE freaking time. God that was, like, months ago. Move on."

"Derek if you want to compare packs," started Jackson, channeling some of the snark of his former self. "We make your betas look like the Three Stooges. Not like that's hard or anything."

"Typical," said Derek, frowning at Jackson. "You're a wolf for, like, five seconds and you already think you're the best at it. Well, listen up Mister Perfectly Coiffed Team Captain, I…" Suddenly Derek turned to Amy. His eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry but did he just refer to you guys as a pack?"

Jackson smirked. "Yeah 'cause I'd ever join the circus that you're running. The four of you probably dig holes in the ground to sleep in at night. Amy's my alpha. Which means she doesn't have to put up with your alpha male bullshit."

Derek rolled his eyes. "A pack of two? Yeah that's really intimidating. Good luck with that."

"Three," said Jackson, patting Scott on the back. "I'll help you count on your fingers if you have trouble with the math, Derek."

Derek sneered at Jackson before turning to Scott. "Scott?" he asked, looking at the boy expectantly.

Scott nodded. "It's true."

Erica and Boyd exchanged disappointed looks. Isaac sighed in frustration as he'd hoped Scott would someday submit to Derek's authority. In a way he felt bad for Derek, as no alpha relished the thought of their betas denying them. Isaac understood his alpha on a different level than his packmates. Scott and Jackson's decision to side with Amy was eating Derek on the inside.

"And don't forget me," said Stiles grinning.

Derek looked at him with wide eyes. "Humans are a liability to packs, not an asset Stiles."

"What if said human takes the Bite?" asked Stiles, eyes wide as he faked innocence.

Derek turned to Amy. "You offered it to HIM? Are you that hard up? Look at him. His arms are like wet noodles!"

Amy watched Derek for a moment, catching the scent of something coming from his skin. As it penetrated her nostrils, her eyes widened. "You're jealous," she said sounding more surprised than accusatory. "Stiles pushed you over the edge. You wanted to give him the Bite."

Stiles looked shocked. "Me? Really? I never would have guessed because you generally use most of our time together to either threaten me or punch me in the face. And let's not forget the excessive eye rolling and the, wait, is it bad that I'm kind of flattered?" he asked, turning to Amy.

She smiled and rubbed his arm. "No. It's natural to feel flattered. The Bite is a gift after all." She suddenly felt profound sympathy for Derek. "I wasn't rubbing your nose in it, I promise. I shouldn't have blurted that out," she said, looking at Derek apologetically.

The alpha male maintained his stone faced expression, while Erica stood up and went to his side, pouting. "I don't want our packs to be separate," she said. "Why can't we just be one big pack? Now we're going to be rivals," she lamented. "And, truth be told, if I ever get to bang Stiles properly, I'd like to do it without the possibility of disappointing you," she said to Derek.

Stiles turned crimson. "I'm going to need some ice water," he said, going to run downstairs, taking a moment to slap Jackson and Scott upside their heads for snickering at him.

"I don't want to fight with you guys," said Isaac.

"Yeah we've got enough trouble with hunters," said Boyd.

Scott stood up and sighed. "Okay so we're two separate packs. It doesn't mean that we won't need your help. Or that we'd deny you if you guys needed it."

"That's very true," said Amy. "We may be in different packs but we share a common bond and a common enemy."

Derek gritted his teeth. "You steal two of my betas and you expect me to be your bosom buddy?"

Jackson slid next to Scott. "YOUR betas? McCall and I never joined up with you."

"Derek, please don't be pissed. I promise you that Amy got us by playing fair," asserted Scott.

Derek snorted. "Playing fair? More like she banged Jackson and sold you some story to tug on those ever-present heartstrings, Scott. Real fair."

Scott and Jackson both growled, lurching forward towards Derek. "Watch your mouth," said Jackson.

Amy stopped them. "It's okay. He's just angry right now," she said, laying a hand on both of their chests. She turned to Derek. "He'll tone it down once the bruises on his ego heal." Her eyes glowed red. "Right Derek?"

The alpha male noted Amy's show of authority and thought it best to keep his mouth shut. "Oh how the mighty have fallen," said Jackson, under his breath. Scott touched his shoulder, a gesture designed to ask Jackson to tone down any insults for the time being. The young man nodded and sat back down on his bed. "So getting back to the original argument…I killed my grandfather today. My grandfather who also happened to be the leader of a band of werewolf hunters that will probably do everything in their power to make sure that I end up in two pieces by week's end. I need all the help I can get."

Amy sighed and touched Derek's arm. "Look I know you're beyond pissed at me right now. But we're wolves. We protect our own. I wasn't cutting you out of the equation before. I only meant that I wanted to discuss how we should handle things with the pack. If you truly want to help us then I'll accept that help with gratitude. We can even work as one pack for the time being. But if you can't agree then you'll have to take your pack and leave."

Derek softened, feeling Erica next to him, squeezing his arm in anticipation. "Okay," he relented. "We'll come up with a way to find the kanima master and get Jackson out of this mess with minimal werewolf casualty. I won't make any guarantees on hunters, though."

Amy agreed, knowing she'd remove the head of anyone who tried to harm Jackson, Scott or Stiles. She held out her hand. Derek hesitated before taking it. "Thank you," she said.

Derek nodded. "You were right. We're wolf. We'll look out for each other."

Erica shrieked with excitement and rushed to hug Amy. The young beta kissed her on the cheek. "I wish he'd taken you," she whispered. Amy smiled and rubbed Erica's back and squeezed her tightly.

Boyd grinned and even Isaac couldn't contain his excitement. Derek looked at his betas sternly. "This is only temporary. Don't get too excited. Once we figure this out we go back to being separate packs."

Derek's pack groaned in disappointment while Jackson and Scott had an internal celebration. Stiles got back from the kitchen and saw Erica hugging Amy. "I leave for, like, five minutes and all of a sudden its girl on girl? What the hell?"

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Derek, Scott and Isaac approached the Argent house cautiously. It was just after nine in the evening and the television was on, set to the news broadcast about Gerard's death. The three wolves peered into the windows to see Chris looking despondent, Victoria looking angry and Allison generally conflicted.

"Have you spoken with her today?" Isaac asked Scott.

"Yes," said Scott. "She hated Gerard so she isn't exactly in mourning. She's sticking around to make sure that her family isn't plotting anything."

"Then why are we here?" asked Isaac.

"Because I don't trust any Argent. Including Allison," said Derek. "We need to keep an eye on things here if Chris decides to make his move."

Normally Scott would argue Allison's intentions but decided against it. Derek had venom in his eyes for the beta since finding out about Scott's decision to join Amy's pack. He had only went along with Derek and Isaac to make sure that Derek didn't have a meltdown on Chris that could potentially harm Allison.

"Guys has anyone stopped to consider that Gerard could have been the kanima master?" asked Isaac.

Scott sighed. "It had crossed my mind. But something about the way the master spoke to us when he or she possessed Jackson…they didn't talk like Gerard. It was very different. Whoever it was …they were much angrier. There was this hatred in the voice."

Derek watched Victoria carefully. The woman certainly had evil in her eyes. She chose to clean the house, not paying much mind to her grief-stricken husband and confused daughter. Derek wondered what she could have been thinking at that very moment. "Anger and hatred you say? I want to get closer to the house," said Derek. "So I can hear them."

Meanwhile, Stiles, in his attempt to avoid Erica, went into the study and began doing additional research in order to locate the kanima master. However, his efforts earned him just the opposite result because Erica followed him into the study. She lounged on an easy chair a few feet away from him, promising Amy she'd keep an eye on him while the alpha took Jackson and Boyd into the living room to go over what she and Stiles found at the county clerks office.

He sat at Jackson's father's computer, periodically turning his head to see the young beta female watching him. She twirled her hair nervously each time she knew he'd caught her. Finally, after an hour, he grew tired of the game. He sighed. "So any theories on the kanima master, Erica? Anything besides sitting and staring at me? It doesn't necessarily have to be about the kanima master. It could be anything," he said, shrugging. "Like who's your pick to win the Stanley Cup? Got any ideas on who might be on the next Dancing With The Stars? ANYTHING?"

She smiled weakly. "No. I just like looking at you," she said softly.

He put his head on the desk and groaned.

"I'm not so bad," she said. "I'm no Lydia Martin of course. Thank God," she said under her breath.

Stiles lifted his head. "Yeah because you're so invisible at school now. You've been the primary topic in the boy's locker room since you were bitten. Lydia's been dismissed as old news."

She moved to the side of the large chair and patted an empty space. "Come sit with me."

"Erica I've got a lot of shit to…"

"Come on," she said. "Take a short break and come over here."

"This isn't going to end until one of us dies, is it?" he asked.

"Nope," she said. "Come. Here."

He threw his hands in the air, admitting his defeat and kicked his sneakers off before going to get in the chair. She stopped him. "Lock the door," she whispered. Stiles gulped and did as she requested. He slid into the chair and put his feet up and she pressed into him, a sly smirk playing at her mouth. "Much better," she said.

Stiles nervously fidgeted until she placed a hand on his chest. "Settle down."

"Sorry," he said. "Beautiful girl laying next to me right now. My mind's not working at normal levels. Or at any level besides 'holy shit'."

"I'm not concerned with your mind," she said, gently taking his face in her hands and kissing his lips. To her surprise, he reciprocated the kiss and wrapped his arms around her in an embrace. She groaned while he playfully nibbled at her neck. Erica guided his hands, sliding them down from her neck to her breasts. He tugged the straps of her top and bra down and eagerly buried his face in her chest, becoming more thrilled at each little peek of her skin.

Erica could feel his excitement against her and she reached down between his legs, grinning devilishly. "Isn't this way better than research?"

"It's way better than breathing," he whispered hoarsely. "How-how far do you want to take this?" he asked.

She giggled. "We're temporarily Pack right now. I say we take advantage of that." She reached into her purse and extracted a condom, holding it up with raised eyebrows. "I want to give you something that will make you grin every time you hear some guy talking about me in the boy's locker room."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Fanny Wigglesworth?" asked Jackson. "You made that up."

Amy shook with laughter. "I swear I didn't," she asserted.

"So what ended up happening?" asked Boyd. "Am I going to have to call Derek's new girlfriend Fanny? I don't think I can do that with a straight face."

"See I'd have a worse time with the Wigglesworth," said Amy.

"I've got a problem with all of it," said Jackson. "Anyways," he said, taking a spot on the floor next to Amy and Boyd. "What did you and the Boy Wonder find at Fanny's place?"

"Wait," said Boyd, sniffing the air and looking towards the study. "Are…Stiles and Erica doing what I think they're doing?"

"I heard it earlier but I was hoping neither of you would notice," said Amy, chuckling. "But I forget I have two werewolves sitting next to me."

Jackson listened intently for a moment before cracking up laughing. "Well," said Jackson. "The poor kid had to lose it sometime. I had visions of McCall and I trying to get him dates at the retirement home."

Boyd giggled. "Well Erica's only been talking about him non-stop for about a month now. I guess it was inevitable that she'd break him down."

"Hey as long as they aren't doing it in the kitchen," said Jackson. "You guys know how I get about that."

"Alright let's give the kids some privacy and focus on the task at hand," said Amy, placing a document box on the floor in front of them. "So I got the address of your mother's apartment. The one she shared with Chris Argent."

"How'd you do that?" asked Jackson.

She sighed, extracting a piece of paper from a manila envelope. "It was listed on her marriage license. Signed and notarized by the magistrate herself."

"What? Marriage license?" asked Jackson, taking the sheet from her. He saw his mother's name in bold letters. Next to hers was the name of the future groom. "Who the hell is Michael Bowen?"

"I wouldn't have known had I not been a werewolf," said Amy. "Mike Bowen was a hunter. The Bowens were always extremely close to the Argents. They had a big falling out. Right around, shocker, 1995."

"A big falling out right around the time I was born," said Jackson, looking down at the paper. "Someone set Mike Bowen up."

"Or blackmailed him," said Boyd. "All in order to remove any possibility of anyone finding out that Chris was Jackson's father."

"Bingo," said Amy. "According to Stiles' research, Mike never served jail time for Catherine's murder. In fact, no one even knew about Mike until six months AFTER Catherine's death and there was little to no press coverage on him. So there was certainly some mutual back scratching in that scenario. Anyway, whoever blackmailed Bowen wanted any possible suspicion off Chris Argent and fast."

"And forged my mom's signature. Whoever it was knew about my mom long before her death. This license is dated in January of 1995. Months before I was born," said Jackson.

"But don't both the man and the woman have to be present when filing a marriage license? That could mean that two people were involved," said Boyd.

"No," said Amy. She handed him a general information page from the clerk's office. "Some towns and cities differ but good old Beacon Hills only needs one person."

"But who could it be?" asked Boyd.

"It's either one of the Argent's. Or my grandfather Jack," said Jackson.

"But didn't Chris say that your grandfather knew nothing about his hunting?" asked Boyd. "My money's on one of the Argents."

"I tend to agree," said Amy. "But which one? I mean if it was Gerard, then great because Jackson's taken care of that. But I want to find out for sure. Jackson, have you ever met Allison's mom?" she asked.

"No," he said. "Anytime I've ever picked Allison up from her house she's always been waiting at the end of the driveway. I've never gone in to meet the mom. She works at the school but I've never spoken to her."

"Boyd, how about you?" asked Amy.

"I've had to go to the office a couple of times. She seemed kind of snobby. But not like a bitch or anything," said Boyd.

"Hmm," said Amy.

"What is it?" asked Jackson.

"Well when you were possessed by the kanima master and spoke to me in the kitchen it got pretty nasty. Lots of werewolf slurs and below the belts to Stiles. After speaking to Chris I didn't get the sense that he'd say something like that, even in anger. I'm trying to think of who would," she said.

"Um…" said Boyd, looking in the direction of the study. "I know this may not be the best time to bring this up…but Stiles is really loud in bed."


	11. Chapter 11

New Reign Chapter 11

***I'm so sorry for the delay. Work's been SOOO busy. Thank you for reading and have a nice day!**

_MIDNIGHT_

"Little Amy Munroe," said Mike Bowen, grinning with his cell to his ear. "Always so resourceful. I can only imagine how you got your hands on my phone number. To what do I owe this distinct honor?"

Amy strolled outside on the back patio at Jackson's. "Eh, not much Mike. Just wanted to talk about what you were up to around oh, say, 1995. You remember much about that time?"

"Lets see," said Mike. "Clinton was in office. Gas was only a little over a dollar a gallon and postage stamps were thirty-two cents."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Well since your memory is so good, I'll give you a little pop quiz. Do you remember a beta wolf named Catherine Bailey? I certainly hope you do because your name was listed as the groom on your marriage license with her."

Mike snickered. "Well, well, aren't you quite the little detective? Why are you so interested in something that happened seventeen years ago Amy?"

"Because Catherine's son, the one that was orphaned after her murder, is in my wolf pack," said Amy. "And he knows everything. Chris Argent spilled the beans the other day."

"Well if Chris is being so chatty, what do you need me for?" asked Mike.

"Chris has no idea who killed Catherine or who blackmailed you. I have a feeling you have the answers to both of those mysteries," said Amy.

"Of course I do. But what makes you think I'd tell you shit?" asked Mike.

Amy smiled. "Thought you'd say that. There's someone here I want you to speak with. Hold on." She handed the phone to Allison, who stood waiting patiently at her side.

The young girl took the phone and put it on speaker. "Mr. Bowen?"

The man chuckled. "Well who's this now, sweetie?"

"My name's Allison," she said. "Allison Argent."

Mike snorted. "Chris and Victoria's daughter," he stated. "Working with Amy Munroe and her pack? Nice try but no Argent would be caught dead working with a wolf. Banging them sure, but not forming alliances with them."

"A lot's changed since the nineties Mr. Bowen," said Allison.

"Except for the banging part," said Stiles, whispering to Scott and nudging him in the ribs. "Ey, huh?" he said, winking.

Scott frowned and placed his index finger in front of his lips. "Shhh."

Allison continued. "And much of that change was brought about when you and your family cut ties with mine."

"Oh really?" asked Mike. "Like what?"

"For starters, my grandfather is dead," said Allison, flatly.

"Gerard?" choked out Mike. "But…how?"

"He shot off at the mouth one time too many, I guess," said Allison.

Mike remained silent on the line while Allison chewed the inside of her mouth nervously. 'You're an Argent,' she told herself. 'A leader. Be strong.'

"Who did it?" Mike asked suddenly. "A wolf or another hunter?"

"You'd suspect another hunter? Allison asked.

"In your family, anything's possible. If you are, in fact, an Argent as you say," he said.

"I am and I'll prove it Mr. Bowen. Have you ever heard of The Dogs?" she asked, innocently.

Mike's anxiety could be felt through the phone. "Vaguely."

"Hmmm, for a guy with such a good memory, I'm surprised. You know when you said no Argent would ever work with wolves? Well, that was a lie Mr. Bowen. We do, and you know damn right well we do. But if you need to be reminded of certain things I can do that. You see The Dogs are a pack of misfit wolves with no desire for an alpha. None were born into the life and they weren't exactly the nicest of human beings before they took the Bite either. They kill for hire and guess who their favorite employer is?" Allison asked.

Mike gulped. "The Argent family."

"Ah, now that memory is coming back Mr. Bowen. Let's keep this ball rolling, shall we? I've learned a lot of fun facts about wolves and my family over the past few months. The most recent little tidbit is our alliance with The Dogs. Did you know that The Dogs only agree to kill at a female Argent's request?"

Mike hesitated. "Y-Yes I knew that."

She smiled. "Good. Then you know if you don't answer my questions to my complete satisfaction, I'll just have to have The Dogs pay you a little visit."

"You don't even know where I…" he started.

"Still at 29 Quaker Lane in Kent?" she asked.

He breathed heavily into the phone. "You wouldn't."

"Oh I would," said Allison. "In fact I spoke with Jessie Evans just before Amy called you. "You remember Jessie don't you? He disemboweled one of the hunters in the Jasper family just last year and left him hanging in front of the family compound right before breakfast. Rumor has it that his seven-year-old son found him. I hear the little boy is still living in a state hospital. Is that true?"

"You called that one in?" asked Mike, nervously.

"Nope," said Allison. "That would have been my lovely aunt Kate. Who, by the way, is also dead."

"Allison," started Mike nervously. "I made a promise that I would never speak of any of this again when I left town."

"How noble of you," Allison said. "Too bad I don't give a shit."

Amy pressed her head against Allison's. "Mike…Jessie's been feeling a little underappreciated lately. He and the pack have a real urge to kill. You can either cooperate with us or Jessie Evans can show you what you what's been resting in your lower intestine."

Mike shuddered. "H-how do I know this is really Allison Argent?"

Allison turned around, facing her father, who was being held fast by Derek and Isaac. She raised an eyebrow and put the phone to her father's lips. Chris looked at his daughter with a mixture of disbelief and fear. "Mike, do as my daughter says."

"Chris?" asked Mike, immediately recognizing his fellow hunters voice. "Jesus, man, you-you can't let her…"

"I can't stop her," said Chris. "You know that. Our daughters rule our family. I'm just a soldier. A grunt. Mike, if you know who killed Catherine, you need to tell us now or The Dogs will eat you alive. And that's putting it lightly."

"Shit," whispered Mike. With a shaky voice, he relented. "Victoria. It was all Victoria. She made me sign the marriage license and, and…"

"And what?" demanded Amy.

"The night Catherine gave birth, I-I went to the hospital. She was healing fast but still weak. It was me and two other hunters. We stunned her and dragged her into the woods," said Mike.

Amy looked over at Jackson, who stood flanked by Scott and Stiles, both with hands protectively on his shoulders. "Are you sure you want to hear the rest of this?" she asked.

He nodded. "I have to know," he said, fighting back tears. He looked over at Chris who looked genuinely distraught as well. "We all have to know."

She nodded. "Keep going Mike."

"We dragged her into the woods and tied her to a tree."

"Did she do anything?" asked Allison. "Besides beg for her life, of course," she said angrily.

"She called out for her little boy," said Mike. "Christian, I think his name was. She said she loved him. She was crying. I ended it quick and we put the body in pieces in the woods. Everything was clean. Victoria told us to leave town and never come back."

"What was her bargaining tool?" asked Amy. "What did Victoria have on you to make you do her bidding?"

"My daughter," said Mike. "My little girl was only four when she disappeared while playing in the front yard one day. I had only turned my back for a split second and…we searched and searched for her and assumed her dead. Two days after her disappearance my girlfriend and I found a box on our front porch that contained three of my baby's fingers."

Stiles squeezed Jackson's shoulder, feeling the young man tremble. Mike continued. "There was a letter attached to the box with express instructions for me to meet my daughter's kidnapper at the old waterworks building. The letter said if I made any attempts at police involvement, that I'd receive the rest of my little girl in pieces until there was nothing left of her."

Allison and Chris locked eyes. "Mom," she whispered in disbelief. "How in the world did she even find out about Catherine and the baby?" Her lower lip quivered.

"Mike," rasped Chris, fresh tears spilling on to his leather jacket. "Mike that can't be true. Victoria wouldn't hurt anyone. She…"

"When I got to the waterworks, she had my baby hanging naked and upside down with switch marks on her legs!" screamed Mike. "Victoria had poured bleach on her. My little girl's skin was all burned from the chemicals. Your lovely, harmless wife is a beast! She's worse than anything we've ever hunted, Chris. She's fucking evil! I just want to forget all of this shit ever happened. Please! Allison, call off The Dogs, I beg you. Leave our family alone. My daughter's grown up and she's in college. She's a kind, beautiful person. She doesn't even know anything about my hunting and Victoria is just a bad memory. Please just…leave us the hell alone."

Allison and Amy looked at each other and nodded in an unspoken show of understanding. "Okay Mr. Bowen," said Allison. "Since you cooperated, I'll keep The Dogs on their leashes. For now." With that, she hung up and looked around her. Derek and Isaac stayed close to her despondent father while Boyd and Erica paced as if ready to pounce on anything unfortunate enough to run in front of them. Jackson fought sobs while Scott and Stiles soothed him. Amy, despite hurting immensely for Jackson, had visibly steeled her will. The young alpha female was poised for action and Allison knew that would mean nothing good for her mother.

"Chris," said Amy, softly. "We don't have much time. We know Victoria had Catherine killed and she blackmailed Mike Bowen. Chances are she's the kanima master as well. She needs to be dealt with accordingly. You do understand that, don't you?"

Chris set his jaw, his face pale and tearstained. "I won't play a part in this."

"Wait," said Allison. "You're going to…kill her?" She was suddenly starting to lose her momentum. She could handle her mother being the bad guy but thinking of the woman that raised her being killed was unbearable. She looked to Scott, the one and only person that could ease her fears. Her young lover only offered her a look of sympathy. Not reassurance. She gulped. "Is that the only way?"

"Allison," said Scott stepping forward. He placed his hand on her back. "If we were to expose all of this to the police, it would bring down so much hell on to you and Jackson and your father. On all of us, really."

"It's true Allison," said Stiles. "The media would never leave any of us alone. This would bring things to light that should stay buried." Stiles looked at Jackson nervously. "After everything with Kate…it's just…"

Jackson nodded in agreement. "I only wanted the truth," he said going to Allison, and embracing her. "I have my pack and my sister now. I don't need to share my story with the rest of the world. I'm so sorry," he whispered. "If you don't want to help us track down your mom, I understand. I wouldn't want to see that either. No matter what she's done."

Allison went to her father. "Dad?" she asked, hoping her father would leave his good soldier philosophy behind and just tell her what she should do. "What now?"

Chris wrapped his arms around her shoulders and looked bitterly at the wolves that surrounded him. "We hear the story from your mother's lips and hers alone," he said.

"Chris you heard Mike Bowen's account," said Derek. "What else do you need?"

"I will hear MY WIFE tell me what happened," he spat.

"She had your son's mother killed in cold blood and most likely turned your son into a monster," stated Stiles flatly.

"That's for me to find out for myself," said Chris. He looked at Derek angrily and held out his hand. "You stripped me of my cell and all of my weapons when you abducted me from the house. Can I at least have the fucking keys to my car?"

"We'll only follow you," said Derek.

Chris eyed the alpha male with venom. "I figured that out, thanks."

Derek shook his head in exasperation. He removed the keys from his jacket pocket and tossed them at Chris. "Whatever."

Chris stalked to the Tahoe and slammed the driver's side door. The burgundy machine screeched its way out of the neighborhood. Derek sighed and slunk low to the ground. He looked at Amy. "We'd better beat him there."

"We will," said Amy, baring her fangs, eyes glowing red. She and Derek took off like they were spring loaded, racing towards the Argent house feverishly. The rest of the pack followed suit, soaring through the darkness of night with speed and grace, trying their best to keep up with their swift alphas.

Stiles frowned and pulled the keys to the Porsche from his jeans pocket. "That's okay guys you go on ahead!" he called sarcastically. He looked at Allison. "We'll just drive."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Chris arrived at his house to find his front door pulled from the hinges. "Goddammit!" he cried, as the rest of the pack reached his driveway. "Fucking Amy and Derek are already inside!" he yelled, running to the house. He looked at Scott reproachfully, moving close to the boy's face, and sharply poking him in the chest. "If they've done ANYTHING to her, I swear…"

"They'd be doing you a favor," said Jackson bitterly. He forcefully pushed Chris backwards and stepped protectively in front of Scott. "Leave McCall out of this. You want to issue threats, you can start with me."

Chris opened his mouth, only to swallow his retort. Instead he backed off and ran into the house. "Victoria!" he cried. "Victoria where are you?" He flew up the stairs to the second floor.

Stiles and Allison pulled into the driveway as the pack was entering the house. Stiles couldn't tell much with all of the hollering and clambering about, but he did determine that Victoria was no longer inside the house.

Amy hopped on to the second floor banister and jumped to the first floor with ease. Derek perfectly landed the twenty-two foot drop as well. "She's gone," said Amy. "Some of her clothes and all of her toiletries are missing."

"Allison, where do you think she would go?" asked Derek.

Allison was reluctant to answer, knowing that her mother was as good as dead if the pack got to her. She bit her lip nervously.

"Allison?" started Stiles. "Come on, we need to…"

"The house in Washington," Amy said suddenly.

"Are you sure?" asked Derek. "Seems a little too easy."

"It's what she knows. From what I hear that house makes this one look like it's made of straw. It's got an arsenal of weapons and it's got both man made and natural barriers. It's like a fortress. Not only that but the Argent's have more than a few friends in Washington that would be more than happy to protect Victoria."

Just then, Scott came to the top of the stairs. "Guys, look what I found," he said, making it to the bottom of the entire staircase in one jump. He presented a piece of paper to Amy. "It was near the bed. It must have fallen as Victoria was packing up."

Chris and the remainder of the pack made their way down the stairs as Amy observed the paper. It was very old, and yellowing at the ends. The symbols upon it were quite lovely and moved in smooth, sweeping shapes. She looked at it several times. "I don't know what language this is in," she said.

"Let me see," said Derek, taking the paper from her. He peered at the flower-like characters and his eyes widened. "It's Etruscan," he said. "I don't know what it says, though."

"Wait, how the hell do you know what Etruscan writing looks like?" asked Stiles, skeptically.

Derek looked genuinely hurt. "I can have layers, you know."

Scott sighed and took out his camera, aiming it at the paper. "Let me send this to Doc Deaton. He'll know what it is." He snapped the photo and quickly texted the vet.

Derek and Amy exchanged glances. "We'll be back in a few," said Derek, following Amy to the front door. The two walked out of earshot of the rest of the group and faced each other. "Okay," said Derek. "We've got Chris's cell and we'll check him again to make sure he's not armed. But he has to come with us to Washington."

"Agreed," said Amy. "We can't have him calling everyone he knows in the state and risk having every hunter in the Pacific Northwest on our collective asses. I'm sure Victoria's already called her fair share." The two stood in silence for a few moments. Amy bit the inside of her mouth.

"What is it?" asked Derek. "There's something on your mind."

"I'm having kind of a crazy idea," she said.

"Can't be any crazier that this week's been," offered Derek.

"True," said Amy. She hesitated. "Derek what about calling The Dogs for help? For real this time."

Derek looked thoughtful. It HAD been a pretty decent idea on Amy's part to have Allison mention the killer pack when she was speaking to Mike Bowen earlier. They, of course, had not really contacted The Dogs. They were simply trying to scare the hell out of Mike. "What if Victoria's already called them...so they'll go after us?"

"Maybe," said Amy. She brightened. "We could have Allison call them."

Derek turned his head and listened very intently to Allison's heart. "The girl is very quickly losing her will to fight in this battle. She won't call them, Amy. I guarantee it."

"I figured you'd say that." Amy bit her thumbnail as she and Derek locked gazes. Their eyes both glowed red. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked.

He grinned and pulled Chris Argent's phone from his jacket pocket. He handed it to her. "Do your best Allison impression," he said.

As Amy ran to the end of the driveway to speak with Jessie Evans and the rest of The Dogs, Scott came speeding outside, with Stiles in tow. He breathlessly held up the paper to Derek's face. "You were right," said Scott. "It is Etruscan."

"What do you know," said Stiles. "Beauty and brains. Now if we could just work on that horribly abrasive personality, we'd…"

"Shut up Stiles," said Derek.

"Exhibit A…" said Stiles, rolling his eyes. "Prick."

"So what does it say?" Derek asked.

"It says," Scott said, reading the words on his cell phone. "As night blackens the sky, you are mine. Go, go and be my eyes, my hands and my body. You are the tool of my vengeance. Go now and sup the blood of those who carry on them the stink of deceit. Kill tonight. Kill for your master. Tonight you are mine. Tonight you are kanima."


	12. Chapter 12

12

***This one takes a bit of a break from the tension (a short one, I promise). The packs, oh wait, I'm sorry, the PACK takes a road trip to get Victoria and Derek and Amy finally have a breakthrough. I'm not coupling them, I swear, but I feel after almost a dozen chapters of them being at each other's throats that it was time to bury the hatchet and set a good example for their betas. I'll be honest this chapter is mostly silliness with some meaningful stuff blended in. I also want to thank all of you for your support of this story. I truly love all of your comments and your impressions of the characters. Don't ever hesitate to pm me if you have any suggestions. Have a wonderful weekend!**

"Shotgun!" called Amy, hopping into the passenger side of Jackson's mother's Escalade.

"Don't wanna sit in the back with your boyfriend?" joked Stiles, from the driver's side.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want me to ask Erica if she wanted to sit next to you instead?" she joked back. "Or perhaps you'd both like the backseat for round THREE, you stud?"

Stiles reddened. "Very funny," he said, as Jackson, Scott and Derek piled into the back seat. "Hey!" said Stiles, frowning. "Why's sour wolf in the cool car? Go back with your own kind grumpy!"

"Well, I had a choice Stiles. It was either you asshats or squeezing into the back of Chris Argent's car with him," said Derek.

"Afraid you'd try to touch his leg?" asked Stiles. "Or smell his hair?"

"As irresistible as Chris is, I think it would be better for everyone involved if we remained separate for an eight hour drive," said Derek. "Besides, the pack isn't a bunch of bumbling idiots, even though you four make them out to be. They can handle him."

"Fine. Now let's get on to more important business, Hale," said Stiles. "Did you go pee pee because I'm not stopping this car until we get to Washington. I mean it."

"Pee pee?" asked Derek. "Yes Stiles I had myself a tinkle before I got in the car. You happy now?"

"Yes," said Stiles, putting the car in drive. Suddenly he stopped and groaned.

"What is it?" asked Jackson.

"Now I have to pee," said Stiles, getting out of the car.

"For fuck's sake that's the third time," said Derek under his breath.

"He had more than his fair share of coffee this morning," said Scott. "Plus his bladder's like the size of a nickel."

"Are you sure you want him in your pack Amy? A skinny-legged nerd with a bladder problem?" asked Derek.

"Oh stop," said Amy. "Stiles is awesome."

"Erica would agree with you Amy," joked Jackson. "She's seen a few, ahem, new sides of him recently."

"Don't remind me," said Derek. "I could smell the after effects of their little play date all over the house when we got back. I thought you guys were doing research. Amy is this how you run things when I'm gone?"

"Face it Derek," said Scott. "Stiles has officially been laid twice as much as you have this year. Don't be so jealous."

Jackson took one look at Derek's dropped jaw and burst into hysterics. "Nice burn McCall. Impressive."

"Why thank you, sir."

Amy turned around and looked at Derek. "No luck with Fanny? I thought she was a sure thing." The alpha simply gritted his teeth at her. She offered a smile in an effort to assure him that she was only kidding. Everyone knew Derek could get nearly any woman he pleased and didn't mind blatantly flirting his way through life, either. However, he chose to remain chaste, most likely due to his devastating betrayal by Kate Argent. He softened only slightly at her gesture. That was good enough for Amy.

Stiles came back to the car and managed to trip over his own feet, smacking into the driver's side door. He chuckled. "Meant to do that!" he said, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Derek raised an eyebrow.

"Oh come on," said Amy. "That's not the work of a klutz. That's some serious physical comedy right there."

Stiles' distinct clumsiness was once again brought to light when he re-entered the car, whacked his head on the top of the door and then somehow managed to get his shirt caught on the handle. The entire car rocked, as he finally broke free. "Heh heh," he started. "Minor setback. I'm good now."

"See?" Amy asked, shrugging at Derek. "Like a young Jim Carrey."

Derek looked at Amy and shook his head. Isaac beeped the horn on the Tahoe. "You guys ready to get this show on the road or what?" he called from the driver's side window.

Stiles waved enthusiastically. "Follow me!" he called, pulling to the end of the driveway, looking like an excited child.

Isaac put the car in drive. "Why are we following them when the owner of the house is in our car and could tell us how to get there?" asked Isaac.

Erica shrugged. She looked back at Chris, now bound and gagged, shooting poison out of his eyes at the three betas. Boyd sat to the hunter's left and watched him carefully. "Probably because he'd drive us all off a cliff first," she said. Erica was glad Allison made the decision to stay home. As much as the beta liked to ruffle the dark haired girl's feathers, she didn't think she should have to watch her own mother die.

Suddenly Isaac's phone rang and he saw Stiles' number pop up. "What now?" he groaned. He held the phone away from him and put it on speaker. "Stiles?" he asked. "What are you-?"

"Whoo! ROAD TRIP BITCHES!" Stiles yelled into the phone before hanging up. He then went peeling onto the street, fist triumphantly in the air.

Isaac sighed and looked at Erica. "You had sexual intercourse with that individual?"

"Twice," she said, sticking out her tongue at her pack mate. "And it was awesome."

"Twice," said Isaac, putting his foot on the gas pedal, a befuddled expression on his face. "Twice. And it was…did you just say awesome?"

%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Once on the road for several hours, Amy did her best to keep up the spirits of the group with various games and music. Derek's level of participation consisted of him sulking against the door and generously doling out eye rolls.

"Ah, Derek," said Stiles, looking at Derek in the rearview mirror. "No one broods quite like you."

"How about another game?" Amy asked.

"Ooh, I'm in," said Stiles. "What have you got?"

"Okay how about old school ad slogans that should make a comeback?" she suggested.

"I'm so on this," said Stiles, excitedly. "Wazzuuuppp?"

"Where's the beef?" said Jackson.

"Um…" started Scott. "Oh I've got it. I've fallen and I can't get up!"

"Double your pleasure, double your fun," said Amy.

"Speaking from experience?" asked Stiles.

She smacked him playfully. "Oh YOUUUUUUU!"

"I happen to know of someone who doubled HIS pleasure recently," started Scott. Jackson snorted with laughter.

"Zip it, Scotty boy," Stiles warned. "I've got another one," he said. "Bud…" said Stiles, pointing to Amy.

"Weis…" she said, pointing to Derek.

The alpha male rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. He sighed dramatically. "Er."

Jackson and Scott cracked up laughing while Stiles and Amy looked shocked. "Better late than never, Derek," said Stiles, giggling.

The alpha actually cracked a small smile before furrowing his brow and pushing out his lower lip in a pout again.

"Guys not to interrupt our game, because I'm clearly kicking ass, but what's our plan once we get to the Argent's house?" asked Stiles. "And if you guys are trying to figure out how I can help I'll offer that I'm really good at such things as waving my arms frantically and screaming like a six-year-old girl."

"As I'm sure Erica found out last night," stated Derek.

Scott and Jackson couldn't help themselves. They both laughed so hard they had tears in their eyes. Stiles' eyes widened. "Yeah, haha, yuck it up back there." He looked over at Amy, who bit back her laughter with all she had. He giggled. "Oh, go ahead Amy, you can laugh at my expense. To Derek's credit, that was actually pretty funny."

"Not as funny as your chicken legs," said Derek.

"Oh so checking out my legs AND bringing up my sex life? This isn't looking good for you Derek, it really isn't," said Stiles.

Derek leaned forward. "Yeah? Well it's not going to look good for you when I commence face punching."

Amy smacked Derek on the head with a magazine. "Stop it. Both of you," she said, trying not to laugh.

Stiles joined Derek in his pout parade. "Okay back on the original topic before Derek took it to a bad place…what's the plan?"

"We could throw Stiles on the front lawn and let the hunters go to town on him while we go for Victoria," said Derek.

Amy rolled her eyes. "Okay Derek, take a Midol. Cut Stiles some slack, will you?"

"Yeah I mean now I can never wear shorts again," complained Stiles. "You've given me body image issues. I hope you're proud of yourself!"

Scott cleared his throat. "This is getting nowhere," he said.

"How about we ambush them all Rambo-style?" suggested Jackson. "You know, sneak in and take them out one by one until we get to the bitch. Sorry, I meant Victoria," said Jackson.

"I think that's a solid plan, Jackson," said Stiles. "I'll stop and get us all headbands on the way."

"We need to actually get in the house if we want to do the Rambo thing," said Amy. "Just making it on to the property in one piece is going to be a job in itself. And since I haven't yet heard back from The Dogs, we're on our own."

"We'll recon when we get there," said Derek. "Get a lay of the place and then figure out our plan of action then."

"Well look at that!" said Stiles. "Us making plans, how awesome are we? Well, besides red eyes over there," he said gesturing to Derek.

"I've got a good ad slogan for you Stiles," said Derek, smiling malevolently. "When I tear into you later I can ask myself if you taste great or if you're less filling."

Stiles nodded. "Despite the thinly veiled threat of bodily harm that wasn't too shabby, Derek. I like."

"Okay," said Jackson. "Next game. How about old school trash talking on the playground?"

Stiles snapped his fingers. "I know you are, but what am I?"

"Your momma's so ugly you need to tie a pork chop around her neck just to get the dog to play with her," said Jackson. "Your turn McCall."

"Guys," complained Scott. "I'm no good at this. Um…I see London. I see France. I see…"

"I can actually picture you using that one on Allison," said Stiles. "Admit it, you have."

"Come on Derek, I'm sure you have some good ones," said Amy.

The alpha male closed his eyes. "If I pretend I'm sleeping will you knuckleheads leave me alone?"

"Sure Derek," said Stiles. "Right after I school you in playground trash talk." Smiling proudly he started. "U-G-L-Y, you ain't got no alibi, you ugly! Yeah, yeah you ugly!" Amy soon joined him. "M-A-M-A, how you think you got that way? Your mama! Yeah, yeah your mama!"

Derek sighed as the other four passengers of the car laughed themselves silly. He began to fantasize about jumping out of the moving vehicle. However, he forced himself to think about the impending battle with what would likely be every werewolf hunter in the state of Washington. It was something that would be talked about for many years to come. If Derek and Amy were successful, they'd have the admiration of every wolf pack on the west coast. Derek observed the others having the time of their lives and wondered if they understood how everything they knew was about to change. Derek and Amy were leading their betas into war.

He narrowed his eyes at Amy's reflection in the side mirror. He watched her quietly, using all of his senses to gather information. He discovered that her surface behavior of silliness was designed to keep herself and the betas calm. Underneath she was terribly worried, especially about Stiles. If there were to be any casualties as a result of this battle, their only human soldier would likely be the one to fall, something neither Amy nor Scott could live with.

In addition, Scott knew that his decision to go to Washington would alter his relationship with Allison forever. The young man's uneasiness was at least temporarily suspended as he bonded with his pack in the car.

And then there was Jackson. It was increasingly obvious that Amy and Jackson had developed strong feelings for each other, which could cause needless mistakes on the battlefield. That, coupled with Derek's inexperience as an alpha, could cost them all their lives.

Derek could hear Amy's elevated heartbeat and suddenly took pity on her. If she lost another pack she'd be only a shell of her former self. It was hard enough bouncing back the first time as it was. Despite their differences, the alpha male had grown to respect her. Derek admired her skill as an alpha, though he hid it under layers of vicious rhetoric and sarcasm. As angry as he initially was with her taking Scott, Jackson and Stiles as her own, he found himself caring for her welfare. Derek knew that, despite her occasional frustration with him, that she felt the same way. He suddenly felt moved.

The three others would immediately notice any physical or verbal gesture of comfort; so he decided to try relaying his sympathy in a text. He took out his phone. "I know you're worried. Just remember that we're in this together," he wrote. "We're a two-alpha pack now. You know I'll do everything in my power to bring us all home safe. Even Stiles."

Amy took out her phone upon hearing the alert. After reading it, she turned towards the side mirror and smiled warmly at him. "Thank you," she mouthed. Then she giggled and picked up her phone. "Since we've got an old school theme going, here's a reference for you to illustrate how I feel about your nice text," she typed. "Wow! Thank you, it's a real moment. You know your voice is kind of nice. When your mouth isn't screwing it up."

He looked at his phone and chuckled at the _Goonies_ reference. "Yeah and your looks are kind of pretty. When your face isn't screwing it up," he typed back.

Both alphas looked around the car to see if their gesture was noted by anyone else. However, the three young men were enjoying themselves too much. Their happiness at being a pack resonated throughout the vehicle. Amy and Derek both sincerely hoped that the car ride home would be just as joyful.

Just then, Chris Argent's cell phone rang. Amy gulped when she saw the name on the screen.

"Is it The Dogs?" asked Scott nervously.

Amy nodded and took a deep breath. The four males offered their best looks of encouragement. She picked up. "Hello?" There was a short pause while Amy listened. "Hi Mr. Evans," she said, trying her best to sound like Allison. "I'm so glad you called. I need your help."


	13. Chapter 13

13

***I'm very sorry for the delay. Thank you to those reading and commenting. I appreciate that. This chapter the pack will meet The Dogs and a decision will be made as to whether or not they'll agree to help take down Victoria. I hope you like my characterization of them, especially Jessie Evans. As always, feel free to review or pm me with any of your impressions thus far. PS—I only foresee two more chapters to this story, which makes me kind of sad to see it end. Thanks again and enjoy the rest of the week.**

"Jesus," muttered Stiles, looking at the nearly thirty hunters and numerous safety measures dotting the exterior of the Argent's Washington home. "You'd think President Obama was inside that house." He let the binoculars fall to his chest. "I feel like we've been here since the beginning of time and it's freaking freezing out here. What time did The Dogs say they'd be in town?"

"Thirty minutes," said Amy nervously. She scanned the horizon and noted stakes for electric fencing.

Derek, as if reading her mind, went beside her. "Fencing isn't showing."

"Yeah," she said. "So it's even more voltage. That could kill Stiles in an instant," she whispered.

He sighed. "Then we'll just have to keep him away from there."

"Easier said than done."

"Come on," said Derek. "We're meeting them at the Motel 6 in Sudwell. We're already late."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

The parking lot was wet from a recent heavy rain. The lights of the motel reflected off the numerous puddles that punctuated the asphalt. The air was still but bitter cold and damp. They were on a relatively busy street, but the late hour and the rain drastically reduced the traffic.

Stiles, Scott and Derek paced the lot impatiently while Amy took solace in Jackson. The pair leaned against the Escalade. "They'll be here soon," he said, stroking her hair.

She rested her head on his chest, arms wrapped at his waist. "I hope so. They're nearly an hour late."

"Heads up," said Stiles, eyeing the large brown van that pulled off the main road and drove painfully slowly through the parking lot. The rest of the pack exited the Tahoe and stood with Amy and Derek.

Amy caught sight of the driver of the van and knew right away that it had to be Jessie Evans. Amy had heard many stories about the twenty-eight-year-old wolf from both hunters and packs alike. He came from a tribe right near where Amy grew up. The Salish Indian was handsome from a distance. But up close he could cause even the most articulate of linguists to stutter at his attractiveness. That, coupled with the wolf's storied ferociousness, made him formidable indeed. He pulled the van next to the Tahoe and exited, not saying a word as he watched the pack with chestnut brown eyes. He went to the back of the van, and released the latch, allowing the rest of The Dogs freedom.

"I thought dogs had trouble standing in the back of moving vehicles," Stiles whispered to Scott, trying to hide his trademarked grin of mischief.

Despite the precariousness of the situation, the beta chuckled softly. "These are very different kinds of dogs."

Five of them stepped out from the depths of the brown monstrosity. Anyone compared to Jessie wouldn't look like much but The Dogs took looking scary to another level altogether. They were unkempt and appeared to live on a diet of rocks and the broken glass from beer bottles. They all simply eyed Amy and Derek's pack with mild disinterest.

With the exception of Jessie, of course. He was known to be extremely intelligent as well as perceptive. As he stood across from the pack, most notably Amy, it was clear that he knew something was off.

Very off.

He watched Amy for a full minute before stepping forward with fire in his eyes. "Please tell me that one of you is hiding Allison Argent somewhere, because all I see in front of me is a bunch of wolves."

"Allison's not here," said Amy, knowing that lying would be an exercise in futility. "I used her name to get you to meet us, Jessie."

The Dogs snickered in amusement while Jessie remained stone faced. "I just drove three hours so…what…some little groupies could meet us?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Jackson said indignantly. "You happen to be in the company of one of the most powerful alpha females from here to Mexico. If I were you, I'd be the one throwing panties, jackass."

"Oh is that so?" asked Jessie. He took his eyes off Amy to gaze around at the rest of the pack. They were all teenagers with the exception of the tall, dark-haired male. He scoffed. "So you bunch of high-school kids wanted to show off your alpha and decided we would be the best place to start?"

"No," said Derek. "We called you out here to help us kill some hunters. And a kanima master."

The Dogs roared with laughter and even Jessie had to chuckle. "Oh this is fucking priceless. Who the hell are you anyway?"

"I'm Derek Hale." He nodded to Amy. "This is Amy Munroe. We're the alphas of this pack." Derek didn't realize just how much he enjoyed saying that until it came time to do so.

Jessie suddenly exchanged a cautious look with the other Dogs. "Amy Munroe," he stated. "Last I heard you were still near Olympia looking for a pack."

"Times change," said Derek, moving closer to Amy.

"Apparently," said Jessie.

"I'd have taken you on, sweetie," said one of The Dogs, a tall, overweight blonde known only as Spur. He sported stringy hair and a filthy beard, which hung all the way down to his chest. He motioned to his crotch. "I'd have taken ya right here!" The other Dogs laughed heartily at the joke.

Before Derek or Jackson could offer a retort, Amy folded her arms across her chest and smirked. "Sure _sweetie. _I mean, you'd need several flea baths and a trip to the groomer before I'd even consider it, but…actually I would never consider it."

Jessie cracked a small smile and motioned to the all night diner near the motel. "Why don't you all go inside and get acquainted? I'd like to talk with Amy and Derek alone."

Amy and Derek's pack hesitated but The Dogs seemed eager to get inside and sample the diner's fine cuisine and beer. "It's okay," said Amy to Jackson and Scott. "But keep Stiles close by at all times."

Jackson nodded and kissed Amy. "Same with you and Derek. Stick together," he whispered before hugging her.

"Aww, ain't that sweet!" said one of The Dogs, the shortest and plumpest of the group. "Come on, darlin'," he said, putting his arm around Erica. "I'm Franco. And you look like trouble…just the kind of trouble I like, too."

Erica snorted. "Please," she said, slapping his arm away and going to Stiles. "If you like jail time I'd be perfect for you. But sadly I'm taken," she said sarcastically. She put her arm around Stiles. "I'm with him."

"That scrawny bastard?" asked Franco. The Dogs again laughed hysterically.

"Laugh if you want," said Erica, strolling towards the diner on Stiles' arm. "But it's the best-,"

Stiles turned several different shades of red and quickly covered Erica's mouth with his palm. "That's right Erica, it's the best apple pie in the state!" he declared, pointing to the bright sign outside of the diner that boasted those words. "Hope they're not all out." Scott and Jackson looked at him with a cross of amusement and sympathy. "God help me," he said under his breath. "In!" he demanded, kicking Erica in the behind on the way inside.

Jessie watched until everyone was out of earshot. He then strolled over to the Tahoe and opened the back door to see a noticeably miserable Chris Argent. Jessie cocked his head to the side. "Well at least he's tied up," he said to Amy and Derek. "So I can't hold HIM accountable for this little charade."

He slammed the door shut and took a few steps away from the vehicle. Amy and Derek followed. "Jessie we can explain," started Amy. "You see Victoria Argent is a kanima master and she's hiding out in the family compound down the road. There's a freaking boatload of hunters on the property and we need your help getting to—"

Jessie put his hand up. "You need my help," he said, eyebrows raised. "To do what? Kill my meal ticket? I mean with Kate gone and Allison probably not having a clue who I am that leaves just one more Argent to sign my checks. And you want me to help you kill her?"

"You'll be compensated," said Derek. "Handsomely."

Jessie folded his arms across his chest and shook his head, laughing. He looked at Amy. "Oh really? Well then you must have married rich, Amy, because you didn't have two pennies to rub together a month ago."

"Like I said before…things change," said Derek.

"And like I said before…apparently," said Jessie.

Amy sighed. "Come on, Jessie. I've heard more stories about you than I can count. But stories don't say everything about the real person. Trust me, I know. You can't love the way that you're living. Doesn't it bother you that, not only do you have to kill humans and hunters, but other wolves too? I know you value pack even if you don't want an alpha. You have to."

"I don't _have to_ do anything. That's what's great about my life. I don't have to be under anyone's thumb," said Jessie.

"How do you figure?" asked Derek, stepping forward. "You come every time one of the Argent bitches calls you. Just like a good little dog."

Jessie's eyes glowed amber and he closed the gap between himself and Derek. "Oh you think I'm obedient?"

Derek's eyes burned red. "I know you are."

"Okay," said Amy, getting between them. "Both of you put your dicks back in your pants." She turned to Jessie. "Look…One of my pack was Victoria's kanima. Do you even know what a kanima is?"

Jessie sighed, feigning boredom. "I've heard of them."

"So you know that they are really werewolves, born into the life but never given the chance to know who they really are. They're used by evil people to exact vengeance. My beta would wake up with blood on his hands, not knowing why. The guilt and shame and confusion would wreck a lesser person. He'd lose hours…even days. He was completely out of control and had no pack to help him at first. He was being used like a Kleenex by that greedy bitch. God, as a wolf, just knowing what a kanima is would make me want to slice the master into pieces. Maybe those other guys inside the diner wouldn't care either way. But I've got to believe that there's some instinct in there to protect your kind. Something. Anything?"

He watched her intently but did not speak. She shifted on her feet several times before sighing and reaching into the breast pocket of Derek's jacket and extracting a thick envelope. "Here," she said. "My little speech was obviously a bust. Maybe this will sway you."

He took the envelope and tucked his hand inside. He ran the tip of his thumb over the thick stack of bills. Jessie looked back up at the alpha pair. "That's quite a kitty."

And it was. It was Jackson who had the brilliant idea of confronting his adopted grandfather Jack, a man he knew would be all too eager to throw money at any problem. The short visit Jackson made to Jack's office resulted in the young man walking out with an envelope full of enough cash to purchase one of the nicer houses in Beacon Hills. He promptly offered the envelope to Amy, hoping The Dogs could be swayed with it. Amy insisted he keep a portion of the money, which he begrudgingly did, saying he would only put it aside for her to have.

Derek gestured to the envelope. "There's enough there to keep you and the rest of The Dogs comfortable for awhile," said Derek.

"Might even be able to finally retire," said Amy.

"What fun would that be?" asked Jessie, throwing the envelope back at Derek.

"So maybe Amy was wrong about you. You like killing for hire then?" asked Derek.

"What's my alternative?" asked Jessie. "Being like Amy? Searching for months or even years for some arrogant alpha to take me in, follow his rules and be his little bitch?" He observed the hurt expression on Amy's face and suddenly softened. "You were both born wolf I take it?"

They nodded.

"Well, I wasn't. I was bitten as an adult and I didn't ask to be. I almost died healing from that fucking bite. The idiot that bit me didn't have a pack and got himself sliced in half by hunters the very next night. I was completely alone. I couldn't control the shifts…the rage. The morning after my first full moon, I woke up in a pool of blood in someone's living room. It wasn't my blood. It was the blood of a young couple and their two dogs. I'd ripped them to shreds. So I know, Amy. I know how your beta felt as a kanima. I know what it's like to kill without control and to lack the support of a pack. I live with those thoughts every day."

"Then why won't you help us?" Amy pleaded.

"Amy, you don't understand. You and Derek were raised knowing how to deal with the shit that comes with being wolf. I wasn't. I'm just a monster," said Jessie. "If killing is all I know, then I may as well be good at it, right?"

Amy shook her head. "Jessie you're a smart man. There's no possible way that you could arrive at that sort of conclusion about yourself."

Jessie ran his fingers through his short black hair, eyes set to his feet.

"How long ago were you bitten?" asked Derek.

"Six years ago," said Jessie.

"And how well can you control your shifts now?" asked Derek.

Jessie laughed bitterly. "Well how's this for starters? I take double and sometimes triple doses of Lithium to keep that shiny, happy feeling going all day long and I pretty much live in a cage during full moons. And fuck if I know what the other Dogs do during moons. I don't think I want to know either."

"Jessie you just haven't been taught the right way," argued Amy. "I mean look at those kids inside the diner. None of them have been wolf longer than a year's time. One of them doesn't even need restraints during moons anymore."

Jessie frowned. "How is that possible?"

"It's because they have leaders who take the responsibility of training them and keeping them safe at all times," said Derek. "They've had the benefit of someone showing them the way to be able to live without the blinding rage or the homicidal behavior. The beta that was kanima has already come a long way since learning of his heritage and bonding with a pack. Without pack, he'd be out killing people as we speak. If he can do it, then there's no reason you can't."

"If you had a proper alpha, you'd get all of your issues under control in a very short amount of time," said Amy.

"You guys sound like an infomercial for werewolves," said Jessie.

"Jessie if you didn't want pack you wouldn't be with The Dogs. And none of them would seek to be together if they didn't desire it, too," said Derek.

Jessie shook his head. "No, you don't know those guys. We just all came together by accident. We hunt; we sleep, we move from place to place. That's the extent of it. Nobody really cares for one another and they most certainly don't want an alpha."

Amy smiled. "Of course they do, Jessie. You might not sport the red eyes but you're their alpha and they need you."

Jessie laughed heartily. "Oh I'll be sure to share that one with the boys later. You two could start your own comedy duo."

"Jessie," said Derek. "Do you not realize that you're their leader? They're inside with our betas while you're out here making decisions with us. They didn't even flinch when you told them to go inside. You drove here while they sat stuck in the back. You've done most of the talking. I'll bet you even gave your ragtag team the name The Dogs. What other clues do you need?"

Jessie just shrugged. "Nah, they're just lazy. None of them want to drive so they can drink. They wanted to go into the diner so they could get out of the cold and go drink and eat and stare at your female beta's tits. And, as far as our name goes, Kate Argent gave it to us. You guys are both reading too much into it. I'm no leader."

"Well that I'd agree with," said Derek. "You'd need some serious training to be able to lead any group, despite the faith those five wolves seem to have in you."

"Then I guess we have no more to discuss out here," said Jessie. "I'm sure the boys want to get back home anyway. To hell with you and your teen dream pack. We're better off without you."

"Hmmm," said Amy. "Well if that's how you really feel, I'd better just go inside the diner and show The Dogs the envelope full of money that you refused and see how they feel about that. You know, just to double check." She turned on her heels and made it all the way to the door, now suddenly nervous that Jessie was really calling her bluff. Her pack desperately need The Dogs to help them take down Victoria and the others, and she had been certain that the key to accomplishing this was through Jessie Evans and _only_ Jessie Evans. Amy felt as though she and Derek approached him in just the right manner, but the man hadn't budged. She slowly reached for the door handle when she heard him call to her.

"Wait," said Jessie, in his deep baritone voice. "Please."

Amy turned. She could see Derek just behind Jessie, wearing his favorite cocky smirk. 'We win,' she could just imagine the alpha male saying. She chose to remain humble in the face of the feral wolf. Amy walked back towards them. Jessie bit his lower lip. "Where'd you get all that money anyway?" he asked.

Amy exhaled, thinking of Jackson. "My beta who was the kanima found out that his adoptive grandfather had inadvertently played a role in the situation. Today, old gramps felt the distinct need for penance."

"And your beta just handed over all the money that his grandfather gave him, knowing that it was for us?" asked Jessie, skeptically.

"Well not all of it," said Amy smiling. "My beta's not an idiot after all. But he is generous. So, yes, he knew we needed some incentive for you to work with us, so he was more than happy to share."

"Why would he do that?" asked Jessie.

"Because he knows what being pack means," said Derek. "You look out for each other and," said Derek, looking at Amy meaningfully. "Overlook whatever stupid issues you have with one another because you care about them."

Jessie looked between them for a moment. "Well that was just so…I mean I'm overwhelmed by this feeling. I don't know how to describe it, it's…it's…oh yeah it's nausea. I'm gonna hurl on the pavement if I hear anymore sugary sweet, inspirational bullshit."

Amy sighed. "Okay Jessie. You win. At least we tried." She went to Derek and he placed his hand on her shoulder.

Jessie folded his arms and smirked. "I just said I didn't want to hear anymore of your sappy crapola. I never actually said I didn't want to take that envelope."

"So, you're going to help us?" asked Amy excitedly.

He shrugged. "What can I say, you've moved me," said Jessie.

"More like bribed you but we'll take whatever we can get," said Derek. He took some of the bills from the envelope and handed them to the wolf. "Twenty-five percent now. You get the rest when the job's done."

Jessie nodded. "Fair enough." He peeked over at the Tahoe again, seeing the outline of Chris Argent's head in the back window. "Let's get this done."

"Suddenly so eager to cooperate," noted Derek. "Never imagined you to be so receptive."

Jessie licked his lips and offered a smug smile. "Yeah well, truth be told, I never really liked the Argents much. But then again, who does unless they're tossing money at you?"

"I wouldn't know," said Derek. "Usually they're just tossing arrows and wolfsbane-laced bullets at me."

Just then Stiles came out of the diner, walking as fast as his legs could carry him. Scott followed closely behind him. With eyes wide, he laughed nervously and huddled close to Amy. "So, have we, uh…come to some sort of a resolution here, kids?"

Amy smiled. "Jessie and The Dogs are going to help us." She tugged his right ear gently. "What's with you, Stiles? You look freaked."

He shuddered. "You've never seen Franco eat chicken wings before," said Stiles, pulling out his phone and looking through his contacts list.

"Who are you calling Stiles?" asked Amy.

"Oh, just the therapist that I saw after my mom died. After dinner with Franco, I feel as though I'm going to need another few sessions."

To everyone's surprise, that elicited a genuine laugh from Jessie. "I know how you feel kid. You should see him eat lobster. That shit will give you night terrors."

Scott bit his lip and snorted laughter. "Sounds a lot like someone we all know and love ey, Stiles? I think now you finally know how that poor family at the seafood cook-off felt."

Stiles put his phone in his front pocket and looked down. "Touché Scott," he said, sighing. "Touché."

"Okay let's wrap this up," said Derek, grinning at the thought of a hunter massacre. "The hunters can't have their party without the guests of honor."


	14. Chapter 14

14

****I have returned from the murky depths. I hope you like. Thanks for reading.**

As Jessie surveyed the property, Derek decided to take the betas aside for a little pep talk. Actually, it was more him pursing his lips and glaring and saying, "Don't freaking die." It wasn't worthy of a scene in _Braveheart_, but it was serviceable at the late hour. Jackson listened to Derek only half-heartedly. He couldn't take his eyes off Amy. He saw her watching the grounds intently, trying to find some form of a weak spot. He sensed her apprehension. She didn't want any of the betas to get hurt, and he knew she was beginning to get cold feet. It was time to reassure her.

She had been so deep in thought that she jumped when he went and stood beside her. "Jackson," she said, smiling. "You're getting stealthier."

"I think it's more that you're nervous, Amy," he said. "Normally I couldn't sneak up behind you if I tried."

"But I'd like it if you did," she said, winking.

"Very funny," he said, chuckling softly. "Can we take a short walk alone?"

She nodded and took his hand gently as he helped her up.

They walked along the brook that ran parallel to the property. She was distracted but tried her best to offer him reassuring and warm smiles.

"I know what you're thinking," he said.

"Then you should probably have me pressed up against a tree right now," she said tickling him playfully.

He sighed. "Man, you hide it well Amy. I've got to give you credit. If I were a human, you'd have me completely fooled. But as we've all learned from this week's exercise, I'm not human. Not anymore." He stopped short and placed his hands on her hips. "Like I said. I know what you're thinking."

"Okay. Then what am I thinking?"

"You're thinking we've been through too much just to get sliced and diced by some hunters," he said. "But I say we've been through far too much NOT to do this. I know you just want to turn us all around and go back to Beacon Hills, hell, anybody would."

She put her head down. "Don't tell the others. I have to be strong for them."

"The others aren't stupid, Amy. Don't you see Derek looking at you every five seconds, or Scott trying to get near you so he can feel your emotions better? Even Stiles has a bit of a clue. They know something's up with you," he said. "And I know better than any of them."

"Great," she said, sighing. "So all this time I've been trying to put up a front and it hasn't worked?"

"I wouldn't say that," said Jackson. "Not at all." He kissed her cheek and nuzzled into her shoulder. "We know you're not scared for your own safety. You're scared for _ours_. Because you care for us."

"You don't think it undermines my ability to lead?"

"It doesn't undermine anything. Good leaders, real leaders, show their love for those that choose to follow them. You think any of us would go running blindly into a hunter's nest if we didn't believe in you? If we didn't care for you as much as you care for us?" he asked.

She simply watched him.

He grabbed her hand. "Amy, I wouldn't even have made it this far without you. Either Derek or the hunters would have killed me and I'd be six feet under the ground, looking like Godzilla The Teenage Years." He squeezed her hand tightly. "Now I have a real chance at a life. I owe that to you."

"No. It wasn't just me," she argued.

"Yes," he said. "I know. "It has a lot to do with Stiles and Scott too. But let me save my heartfelt thanks for them for another time. Right now I'm thanking you. You deserve a thank you. You deserve everything and anything in the world and hopefully I'm the one that will give you that."

She bit her lip and looked away from him. "I have so much to thank you for too, Jackson. You,"

"You don't have to say it in words Amy," he said, tucking his hand behind her ear, making her look at him. "Everything you do says 'thank you'. Everything you do says that you care about me and that you love me. And I…"

"Don't," she said. "You'll have plenty of times to say it."

"Hey," he said softly. He smiled. "Deep down I'm still a jock with a big ego, so don't ruin my big moment here, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

He touched his lips to her forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said, embracing him.

They held each other tightly for a few moments. She laughed softly. "You were even kinda cute when you were covered in scales," she said. "I still would've stuck around."

He giggled into her neck. "Yeah? You mean you would've been my lizard girlfriend? In it for the long haul?"

"Sure," she said, looking dreamily into the sky. "I'd have gotten a nice big terrarium for us to live in. We could set up a heat lamp and I could go to the pet store and buy some crickets for you to eat, too. I mean we'd have to go light on furniture because you'd be knocking everything over with your tail, but that's okay. We could lay on cedar shavings instead."

"Aww, aren't you sweet?" he said, tickling her ribs and drawing her in for a long sensuous kiss. "Mmmm, he groaned. "I think all this lizard talk is getting me excited."

Her shoulders shook with laughter. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," he said, nipping her neck. "What do you say we head a little further into the woods and discuss our, um, _terrarium_ a little more? I mean it may be our last night on Earth and all."

"Ah, the old 'last night on Earth line, ey?" she asked.

He bit his lower lip. "Please tell me that it's working," he said.

She gazed at the handsome man that took her out of the cold, made her warm and fed her and brought love back into her life. She smiled, thinking she'd do a hundred back flips at that moment if he asked her to. "Yeah," she said, taking his hand and leading him into the trees. "It's working."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Jessie grinned as the wolves and Stiles gathered near a retaining wall on the east end of the property. "Okay I've got your weak spot, Amy," he said. "I had totally forgotten this but see the fencing just next to the guard shack?"

"Uh huh," whispered Amy.

"Well it's not only facing in the direction of conservation land but it abuts onto it as well. That part of the fence can't legally be electrified," said Jessie.

"How do you know that?" asked Stiles.

"I've spent time here in the past. Sometimes Victoria or Kate would have us meet them here to go over the scope and to pay us, too. The cops in this town are really anal. They hassle the Argents about that fence all the time. It's not activated, trust me," said Jessie.

"Awesome!" said Stiles, holding up his bolt cutters. "So I'll finally get to use these!"

Derek raised an eyebrow. "You came to battle with hunters and brought your trusty…bolt cutters?"

"Excuse me, Jason Bourne, but as we're all learning from Jessie, these will come in much handier than your big-ass fangs," said Stiles.

"Not if I bite your hands off first," said Derek.

"Not if I bite your hands off first," said Stiles, in a mocking tone. He stuck his tongue out at Derek.

Jessie exchanged a look with Amy. "Do they always get along this well?"

"No, sometimes they fight," said Amy.

Jessie chuckled. "Anyways, we can get that fence cut pretty quickly but we need a decoy to allow the rest of us to slip into the house."

"How do we get into the house?" asked Scott.

"There's a service door for the kitchen about thirty feet from the fence. Nine times out of ten it gets left open by the staff, but at this late hour, I'm sure it's long since locked. But," he said proudly. "I have the outdoor entrance code. That will get us access to the inside."

"Then what?" Jackson asked. "Get swarmed?"

Jessie smirked. "Nope. I know this place well. The hunters outside are all they've got. Victoria rarely allows them in the house. If we can slip inside, we can activate their lockdown code, which will keep the bastards outside where they belong. It will take them at least ten minutes to override that code, buying us much needed time and they probably won't even notice a thing anyway. Next, a little swipe to the lovely Vickie's jugular and we're golden."

"Okay so we've got a solid way in. But how about when we get back outside? If we're lucky enough to get in unnoticed, I doubt we'll have the same good fortune on the way out," said Isaac.

"That part will be slightly trickier. Our only problem will be with the hunters near the east wall, which, at my count is only a dozen," said Jessie. "There are more than enough of us to take them out in no time. The rest are easily a third of a mile away on the south side. If we can create a diversion at the south side wall, we've just secured our clean getaway."

Amy suddenly smiled. "I may have just come up with a diversion that will keep ALL of the hunters at bay. We might not even have to raise our claws tonight, with the exception of Victoria, of course. And, I think it might be just the thing that will keep our one human safe."

"Always like that idea," said Stiles.

"I'm glad you do," said Amy. "Because you're the diversion."

"Knew that was too good to be true," said Stiles, groaning.

"Don't worry. You'll be safe," said Amy. "But I hate to break the news to you. This diversion doesn't involve use of your bolt cutters."

"Damn," said Stiles. "Foiled again."

"I just need an hour to work out the details. Now, in other news," said Amy. "What the hell are we planning on doing with Chris?"

"I think he's secure with Boyd and Franco watching him at the car. They're at least three miles off," said Jessie. "And I don't know about Boyd's skills but Franco's got a pretty damn impressive track record in battle."

"Good," said Amy. "Boyd's very observant. Chris may be hog tied but he's smart and he'll be hell bent on coming to Victoria's aid."

"So one can be the eyes, the other the brawn," said Derek. "Let's get a move on."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Okay gather 'round my kiddies," said Amy, motioning for the rest of the pack to come close to her. "Now that we're geared up, here are the ground rules. Whoever gets to Victoria first takes the kill shot. Don't let her talk to you. Don't let her sway you in any way. She's a beast and she'll only play to our emotions to survive."

Everyone nodded.

"And," she said. "Stiles…you ready?"

Stiles cleared his throat nervously. "Are you really married to this idea, Amy?"

Amy smiled reassuringly. "You will do great. Got that bottle, Spur?"

The big man grinned and extracted the bottle of Jim Beam from his coat. "Here ya go, kid. A little liquid courage. May wanna take a few swigs 'afore ya go for it. It's cold out tonight."

Stiles looked around at the other wolves, all watching him with various levels of amusement. Well, besides Erica who eyed him with a decidedly more reluctant gaze. He unscrewed the cap on the bottle and took three long pulls. He grimaced at the burn. "Here goes," he said, stripping off his clothes.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

With Stiles being otherwise engaged in the woods, the pack didn't need to use the bolt cutters on the fence after all. They simply jumped over it soundlessly, after the dozen or so hunters that manned the east side went to investigate what sounded like a fisher cat in the woods. "Nature's forever on the side of the wolf," whispered Derek, grinning. They made it soundlessly to the service door, knowing their next move.

"At times, so is technology," said Jessie, entering the access code to the service door. The keypad blinked, indicating their clearance to enter. "Huh," said Jessie, shrugging. "You think they'd change the code once in awhile. Anyway, on three," he said, placing his hands on the knob. "One…two…" He pulled open the door and each wolf slipped in swiftly. Once the door was closed, Jessie quickly locked down the house. "We should still be fine. Nothings been tripped." he said. "The hunters on our side check the doors periodically. Some, not all, have override codes. I'd say we have ten, maybe fifteen minutes."

"Let's make it count, then," said Derek.

Jessie nodded. He looked around. Fortunately the kitchen staff was long asleep, so they could have spoken at a normal volume. However, Jessie thought it best to softly whisper. In fact, werewolf "whispers" were so low that a human ear would be hard pressed to hear it. "Amy, Jackson, Erica and Billy Boy, you're with me. We'll hit the study and sweep west, staying ground level. Then we'll head up. Spur, you've been here almost as much as me. Think you can find your way around?"

Spur grinned. "Yep." He patted two of the other Dogs' shoulders. "I'll take the Oakley boys here with me." He nodded to Derek. "And I want a chance to see what Tom Cruise here has got."

"Isaac, you stick with Amy and I'll go with Spur," said Scott. "That'll keep us moving in and out of here in equal numbers."

"Alright," said Spur. "We make a separate search of the first floor, then we'll go on up to 'ole Vicki's bedroom and make her squirm."

The other Dogs giggled.

"Don't take this lightly guys," said Jessie. "This house is filled with traps. Don't get yourself caught."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

A strange purple light was cast upon the inside of the house, the dawn having only a tenuous grasp on the sky. It pulled at the walls, urging for the sun's arrival, only to retreat, as if in fear of what the light may illuminate within the massive structure. The cold of the marble floors sunk through the soles of their shoes as they moved, each sense so strong it was almost painful to experience.

The smell of women's perfume permeated the air. At first, it tricked the wolves into thinking Victoria was close, possibly around every dimly lit corner. However, the first floor showed no sign of the woman.

Or any traps for that matter.

The two groups met up after their individual sweeps of the first floor. They looked at each other nervously as they ascended opposite sides of the staircase. The smell of perfume began to get stronger. Erica shook her head. "Man, that's intense."

The betas blocked their noses. "Don't do that," warned Derek. "It might be bad but don't cut off your sense of smell. Ever."

The betas nodded and removed their hands from their faces.

"I don't hear a heartbeat," whispered Amy.

"That's disconcerting," said Isaac.

"What's even more disconcerting? The smell. And I'm not talking about the perfume. I'm talking about the smell that's underneath the perfume. You getting that Amy?" asked Derek.

She inhaled, coaching her nose past the sickeningly strong aroma of synthetic lavender and honeysuckle. She struggled and shook her head. Derek broke the barrier between the groups and went to her. "Close your eyes," he said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "It's…how do I describe it…? It's like in a song. It's layered. Inhale even if it's unbearable. Breathe in Amy," he instructed gently.

She did as she was told and suddenly she knew. Her eyes shot open and she tore away from Derek and up the stairs. The others followed her as fast as they could, moving through the weakening darkness with ease.

Amy came to a skidding halt at the entrance to the master bedroom. The perfume was so strong that she felt her stomach lurch. She gulped, going to the other side of the bed. The group waited, watching intently for her reaction. "You were right Derek," she said softly. "There was another smell under the perfume."

Derek stepped forward, placing his hands in his jacket pocket. He nodded to her. "Yes. There was."

Erica's lips curled in disgust. "What was it? What was the smell for Christ's sake before I puke all over my new boots?"

"Death."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Amy looked down at the stiffened corpse. Left arm draped over the heart. A diamond tennis bracelet lay delicately on a dainty, pale wrist. This drew Amy's eyes up to the hand of the deceased. There was a large, sparkly diamond perched on the ring finger. She knelt to the side of the body. "Scott? Derek? Anyone want to come make a positive ID? I've never seen Victoria Argent before."

Scott scrambled over, his eyes widening. "It's her," he squeaked out. "I can't believe it."

Jackson walked over. "How? Did she actually off herself?"

"Is she holding something?" asked Erica, nodding to the woman's hand. "I think there's something in there."

Amy peeled back Victoria's fingers, already tightened by rigor mortis. It was a letter addressed to her husband and daughter. Amy read it and then handed it to Scott. "Seems a little generic as far as a suicide note is concerned. Don't you think?"

Scott looked at the letter and read aloud. "I'm so sorry. I can't take back all of the bad things I've done. I love you both." He looked up. "This definitely wasn't written by Victoria. She was way too intelligent for this. She graduated from Babson with highest honors. She was a Mensa member and her husband and daughter were everything to her. She'd never write a shit-ass note like this."

"I doubt she'd ever kill herself either," said Derek. "She loved herself way too much."

"Then who did it?" asked Isaac. "And how? I don't see any bottles of pills or poison or anything," he said looking around.

Derek leaned down and smelled Victoria's lips. "She didn't drink anything that I can tell. Maybe an injection?"

"I don't see any syringes," said Scott.

"Let's look under the body," said Amy.

Derek lifted Victoria. Amy extracted a small syringe from under the dead woman's back. "Well," she said, eyeing the object. "Here's what did her in."

Jackson sighed. "Whether it was Victoria or not, someone beat us to the punch."

"I knew something was up. None of the traps were activated," said Amy. "And the perfume. A human nose would never have caught the smell of a decomposing body under all of that. I think someone was trying to help us."

"I wonder who," said Jessie.

"Who cares?" asked Spur. "The snobby bitch is dead."

Derek nodded. "And there you have it. Okay, wipe everything down and we put Victoria back the way we found her."

"That's it?" asked Scott.

"Well, we could bring her back to life and kill her again," offered Derek sarcastically.

"That's not what I meant," said Scott. "I meant aren't we going to find out what really happened to her?"

"Why? So you can have an easy explanation for Allison?" asked Derek.

Scott shrugged. "Well…yes. Her mom was evil but she was still her mom. I'd like to be able to tell her what happened."

"She killed herself," said Derek. "There's your explanation."

Scott looked down at the floor dolefully. "I just thought…"

"Unfortunately I don't think we'll ever know, Scott," said Amy. "Someone, whether they knew it or not, was doing us a favor. That's really all we can know."

The pack placed Victoria, the syringe and the letter back where they were found and stood. "Okay," said Jessie. "So whoever offed Victoria was nice enough to disengage all of the traps in the house. Now we just have to get past the east wall hunters. Is Stiles ready?"

Derek smirked. "Probably not but he'll play ball. He always does." He chuckled as he pulled out his phone and texted Stiles. "This should be a pretty good show."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

The exit from the house went smoothly, up until it came time to hop the fence. The hunters were still gabbing about the fisher cat, when the group each made their way to the other side. The alphas stayed on the opposite side of the fence until all of the betas made their way safely across, including The Dogs. Erica was the last to ascend, but she didn't quite clear the fence, badly gouging her thigh on the way over. She let out a small yelp. Isaac and Scott quickly grabbed her and pulled her into a blind spot.

Derek grabbed Amy and yanked her behind the empty guard shack, just as several hunters turned towards the sound.

Isaac clapped his hand over Erica's mouth. The girl whimpered as her body tried it's best to heal from the injury. Amy's keen eyes caught fresh, crimson blood staining the chain links where Erica's flesh was ripped open. A large, syrupy drip was pooling on the metal and was about to fall to the ground below.

"Shit," whispered Amy. Derek held fast to her, his breathing rapid. She gulped, looking at the other side of the fence at a panicked Scott and Jackson. "It's okay," she mouthed.

Jackson's heart rate climbed. "I can hear them talking about a noise," he whispered, turning to Scott nervously.

Scott swallowed as he tended to an already healing Erica. "Stiles is still out there."

"Heh heh," chuckled Spur. "He sure is. And in all his glory, too."

Suddenly the hunters all turned to the woods, where a figure emerged from the trees. It stumbled and giggled, holding a dwindling bottle of booze. The east wall hunters were intrigued and began making their way towards the newcomer at the south wall, forgetting about any of the strange sounds they heard.

Amy and Derek breathed a sigh of relief and made their way over to the fence to join the rest of the pack. Amy stopped at the top of the fence and quickly used her shirt to wipe up any of Erica's blood. When she made it to the other side, the pack ran back and hid behind the retaining wall. "I never thought I'd say this," said Derek. "But thank God. It's Stiles."

One of the hunters pointed and started to laugh hysterically. "Look! It's some drunk kid, naked as the day he was born!"

They all caught a glimpse of Stiles getting closer and closer to them. He was fully naked, save for his socks. He caught sight of the hunters. "Whoo!" He hollered. "Is this where the party's at? Where are all the ladies?" Then he stopped and did some ridiculous dance, thrusting his hips and feeling his nipples while sticking out his tongue. Some watched in disbelief while others laughed so hard that they were doubled over.

"Will he be alright?" Erica asked, nervously.

Amy nodded and gently squeezed Erica's hand. "Don't worry. He'll be just fine. He'll meet us where we all planned in fifteen minutes. I promise, Erica."

"Jesus," said one of the hunters. "Hey someone turn off the fence or else this drunk bastard's gonna run into it and electrocute himself!" Another hunter went over to a box mounted on the house and turned off the voltage.

When Stiles reached the fence, he grinned. "Hey," he slurred. "W-W-Would…do any of you fine gentleman know how to get back to the highway?"

The hunters all burst into fits of laughter.

"Guys as much as I'd pay to stay and watch this, remember Stiles is using this remarkably hilarious act to help us get out of here so let's vamoose," said Amy. The others followed, occasionally looking back as their friend firmly pressed his ass into the chain link fence and them removed it, asking all of the hunters if his butt looked "like a waffle".

One of the hunters stepped forward. He looked to be in his fifties, sort of grizzled but not altogether dirty. "Son, I don't know what kind of frat you're rushing or if you're just nine kinds of crazy, but you've lost your damn luggage."

"Literally," said one of the other hunters, a younger man in his twenties. "I bet it's the Pi Kappa's. Those assholes are brutal to their rushes."

The older hunter sighed and opened the gate. "Come on in, son. I'll call your dad."

"Oh no, don't do that!" said a feminine voice from the woods. She giggled, embarrassed, as she ran towards the large group of men wearing only her underwear and a little tank top.

"Whoo!" they all called, admiring the redhead's ample assets. "Damn!" They all whistled.

The young woman made her way to Stiles. He tried his level best not to break out of character and stare at her in disbelief. But it was…it was…"L-Lydia," he choked out, wide-eyed.

She smiled and embraced him. "That's right _Jake_, it's me baby," she said, wrestling the bottle from him and turning to the group of stunned men. "I'm so sorry," she said in an innocent, feminine lilt. "He's never been able to handle his liquor." She giggled.

Stiles grinned and slurred. "Yeah but I can handle other things, you know what I mean?" he asked, laughing hysterically at his own joke. He looked at one hunter, an overweight man in his forties. "This guy knows what I mean."

"Where are you two kids coming from?" asked the older hunter, sighing.

"Oh, we were just camping in the woods near Snake Creek and he went and got away from me," she said, shrugging.

"We were up at ole Snake Creek and I showed her my snake," he said, stumbling forward and giggling uncontrollably. "Get it? My snake, ah God I kill myself sometimes!" The other hunters simply shook their heads and chuckled.

"Okay that's enough now, babe," said Lydia, holding him up. "We're so sorry to bother you all. Won't do it again, I swear," she said, batting her eyelashes.

The older hunter grumbled and conceded. "You need an escort back?" he asked.

"No sir," she said, taking Stiles' arm and throwing it over her shoulder. "I'm stronger than I look. Thanks so much and sorry for the trouble!"

"Peace out, bitches!" called Stiles, waving as they walked away.

The other hunters stared admiringly at Lydia's retreating back until she and Stiles disappeared into the woods.

It was another two hours before Victoria's body was discovered.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Scott chose to be the one to break the news to Chris. Despite his issues with the boy, he knew that Scott wouldn't lie to him. In fact, all of the wolves eyed him with a sympathy only usually reserved for those of their kind. When the gag was removed from his mouth, he simply hung his head and sobbed. "Take me home. To Allison. Just take me home."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

It came time for The Dogs say their goodbyes to the pack. Derek handed Jessie the remainder of the money, which he divvied up among them.

Amy stepped forward and gave Jessie a warm hug, one he didn't shrink away from. "See? You're not such a bad leader. Not so bad at all," she said.

"Likewise," he returned. He looked at his rag-tag group and chuckled. "Well, where do you boys want to live out our retirement years?"

"Vegas."

"The Bunny Ranch."

"Strip club."

"Your mom's ass."

Amy giggled. "Looks like you've got your hands full."

Jessie laughed. He looked at the pack before him. Derek sat scowling, despite his victory, most likely due to the fact that he'd been hoping for a showdown to make the history books. But as it turned out, no one would ever really know that the wolves infiltrated the infamous Argent house.

Jackson stared at Amy with stars in his eyes. Scott was dozing in the backseat of the Tahoe. Boyd and Isaac wrestled. Then there was Stiles. He sat red-faced on a rock, pulling on his sneakers, bookended by a smiling Lydia and a growling Erica. "I've got MY hands full?"

Amy sighed. "It's going to be a long ride home."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"So," said Stiles, sitting in the passenger side of the Escalade. "Anything to say?"

Amy shrugged from the driver's seat. The sun was nearly up. Scott, Jackson and Derek were all passed out in the back. "I like to have a little something up my sleeve at all times. What of it?" She tried not to giggle.

"Oh something up your sleeve, is it?" asked Stiles. "Well the diversion itself was, despite my utter humiliation…"

"You were freaking awesome!" said Amy. "I know you were buck ass naked but seriously, you should consider acting. You were so convincing, I mean,"

"_That aside_," said Stiles. "I was going to say that the idea was brilliant. HOWEVER…Lydia?"

"Well I knew that the hunters would take pity on you and take you and call your parents. That would give them too much time to discover Victoria's body, because, at the time, I didn't know she was already dead so I thought they'd discover the body and immediately suspect you of having something to do with it and then bring you into their custody and do God only knows what to you or WORSE call your dad and all hell would have broken loose and…"

"Hey rambling girl," said Stiles. "I get that. But…Lydia? Couldn't Erica have come out and pretended she was my girlfriend? You know, since she's already seen me naked? Did you really have to pick the girl that I, up until about two weeks ago, had a massive crush on?"

"I needed a human girl. Erica's eyes would have flared in their lights, as would have mine," she argued.

"Fine," said Stiles. "How'd you even get Lydia anyway? She was back in Beacon Hills and would never have made it up on time to help."

"Girls have very good memories Stiles," said Amy. "The day I went to the medical center with Allison we got to talking. Turns out, Lydia's filmmaker aunt Shannon has some cabin like a half hour from the Argent house and that Lydia would be up here this week just to get away from Beacon Hills after everything that happened."

"So what exactly did you tell her?" asked Stiles. "I mean she's aware that there's weird shit going on, but not, you know, quite this weird."

"I'm still not sure," said Amy. "Jackson was the one that called her."

"Ah," said Stiles bitterly. "Now the truth comes out. It was because _Jackson_ called her."

"Actually," said Amy. "She told Jackson to go to hell. It was only when he said it was to help you that she decided to come out."

Stiles eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Would I lie to you?" Amy asked.

He smiled at her. "No."

"You did try to save her life, Stiles. I think she kind of owed you, no?" asked Amy.

Stiles shrugged. "Maybe." He sat there, hoping that Amy didn't catch the grin forming on his face. Wow. Lydia. His former dream girl coming to his rescue. It was something that pleased him, but didn't overwhelm him the way it would have in the past. He looked out the rearview mirror and watched Erica gaze dreamily out of the passenger side window. He couldn't help but smile. The girl certainly wasn't lacking in both looks and swagger, and he found himself thinking about her more and more. Stiles' life had certainly changed in such a short time. As he looked over at Amy, he knew that it was about to change just a bit more.

He yawned. "How much longer?"

"At least four hours," said Amy.

Stiles nodded. "Sounds like just enough time."

"Time for what?" she asked.

He smiled. "To sleep off a Bite."


	15. Chapter 15

New Reign Chapter 15-Final Chapter

**Okay so time for a time jump, I couldn't resist. This will be very sappy, but gotta have those happy endings. Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting, what have you. It's been a lot of fun writing this! Please review with your final thoughts because this is the end! :-)**

_**Early Fall, 2022**_

Twenty-six-year-old Stiles sat at the top of the tall watchtower, eyes and ears turned to the fields beyond the home he'd shared with his pack since turning eighteen. "All quiet," he murmured to himself, rather dejectedly. He was just so excited for the visitors that came through the pack's grounds every evening at dusk that he felt he couldn't wait another second. It had been happening for nearly three weeks and Stiles was becoming quite enamored with their new friends.

He looked around and wondered where in the world the rest of the group was. It was nearly five-thirty and the days were getting shorter and shorter all the time. It would be dark soon and almost time for nightly watch. Each member of the pack was supposed to have watch duty on a rotating basis, but Stiles, being Stiles, typically took the task from one of his pack mates, as he never really slept anyway, especially since making the Change. He thoroughly enjoyed the sounds of the evening and would spend the dark hours simply reveling in being a thread in the mysterious night tapestry.

Not that watches were necessarily needed. Not really. Since Victoria Argent's shocking "suicide" in 2012, the Argent family, now led by Allison, maintained a strong truce with the pack. In fact, the wolf and hunter family enjoyed a rather pleasant relationship over the course of the decade. Chris and Allison had issued explicit orders for any and all hunters to stay far away from what was known as the Munroe-Hale Pack (even though Amy changed her last name to Whittemore after she and Jackson married years earlier.) However, Amy's maiden name carried a certain reputation of power with it, so the pack name stayed as is.

In other family news, Jackson's adoptive parents were wonderfully supportive of him, along with Amy and the boys. However, knowing but still not fully understanding Jackson's secret, they found it rather odd that he and his family shared a house with so many people. In any case, they were thrilled to see their son finally so happy and content.

Melissa McCall and Sheriff Stilinski became very close after he'd spent nearly a week in the medical center after a suffering a gunshot wound to his shoulder a few years ago. Though neither had ever admitted to being a couple, it was pretty obvious to everyone around them that they were more than friends. Scott and Stiles thought the whole situation very humorous, and figured that their parents would eventually "come out" so to speak.

At the moment, the Sheriff was much more excited about the birth of his first grandson. The gruff man took an immediate liking to Erica and was thrilled when she and Stiles quietly married in Napa Valley two years earlier. He commonly referred to her as his "favorite daughter-in-law" and was already planning fishing trips with Stiles and his still unborn grandbaby. Both Melissa and the Sheriff had been made slowly aware of the "whole werewolf thing" and eventually grew to accept it.

Allison, who was mostly excited about her two nephews, chose to simply remain a figurehead in her family, as she had no desire to hunt wolves. Surprisingly, neither did Chris, especially after Jackson and Amy had their two boys. His grandfatherly instincts prevented him from ever hurting his grandsons. Amy and Jackson even allowed him chaperoned access to the boys. They commonly called him "Papa Chris", having no idea of his former exploits. Jackson and Amy hoped their two boys, both wolves, would never have to know about hunters firsthand.

Not if Chris Argent had anything to do with it.

You see, unbeknownst to the pack and Allison, Chris was the catalyst behind his wife's death. The night that Jackson was rid of the kanima, a plan was quickly put in place for the pack to go to Washington and rid the world of Victoria.

But Chris had other plans.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

_**October 2012**_

Chris took a deep breath once behind the wheel of the Tahoe. He raced home, still reeling from Mike Bowen's confession to Allison moments earlier. So it was Victoria. She was the one behind Catherine Bailey's death and she was most likely the kanima master. The betrayal ran like ice water through his veins. He'd loved Catherine. He truly had. In addition, he loved and thought about his son every single day for seventeen years. He'd watched Allison grow up into such a beautiful young woman and yearned to be able to watch his son flourish as well. But he was robbed of that experience, in large part because of his own stupidity and carelessness. His love for Catherine put her and their son in danger, and robbed him of a child.

Seeing Jackson in Beacon Hills brought both hope and terror. There were wolves in town, namely Derek Hale. Soon, Jackson was pursuing the life of a wolf. Chris was despondent. His boy was once again in danger. He'd made the effort to always be the point man when the hunters zeroed in on Jackson after Kate's observance of the scratch on the boy's neck. At least that way he'd have control over the situation and some overzealous hunter or, worse, his sadistic bitch of a sister wouldn't needlessly kill Jackson. All seemed to be going well and Chris finally thought he'd scared Jackson away from the wolf life for good. He may not have been able to be a father to Jackson, but he'd at least try to protect him as a father would.

But then Victoria came along and shattered his hopes. Chris knew he talked in his sleep and that was why he'd typically stay in his study at night. However, on nights that he and Victoria made love, he'd accidentally doze off. He was certain his secret was revealed on more than one of those occasions.

God, the control that woman had. How she could hide her rage at her husband's affair and illegitimate child was both remarkable and terrifying. She must have had the kanima plan in place for weeks, maybe even months to years before she finally executed it. She would get to enjoy sweet revenge after all this time. She must have been very pleased with herself indeed.

But not for long. Chris had one last resort…one more trick up his sleeve. He owed it to Jackson. And to Catherine, God rest her soul.

The pack was surely close behind him now. He had about five minutes and knew he had to make it count. With remarkably steady hands, he grabbed the disposable cell phone hidden in his glove box. It had been nearly seventeen years but he knew the number by heart.

"Jack Whittemore's office, this is Darlene how may I help you?"

Thank God. Darlene still worked for him.

"Darlene, this is…Tim McCarthy. I don't know if you remember me but…"

"Oh Tim!" she said knowingly and with her usual warmth. "How nice to hear from you. You're just in time. Jack was just about to walk out the door. Jack!" she called.

"Yes?" he heard Jack's booming voice reply.

Darlene smiled. "It's Tim McCarthy coming through on your line."

Chris had to smile, despite the circumstances. Tim McCarthy was the informal code name bestowed upon him by Jackson's adoptive grandfather, Jack Whittemore, after Chris spent years protecting the older man from harm as his head of security. Chris never felt he'd ever live up to the famed secret service agent he was named for but he certainly tried.

Chris felt the line click. "Mr. McCarthy," said Jack. Chris could hear that he was smiling as he spoke. "How nice to hear from you. What can I do for you?"

"Jack," said Chris, urgently. "I need your help. It's…Mrs. McCarthy. She…She's, I don't know if I can explain this to you, but…"

"No need to explain," said Jack, calmly. "I already know, my friend. Tell me what you need and it's done."

Chris sputtered in shock but quickly collected himself as he pulled on to his street. "She's at our other house. She hurt Ja…she hurt my boy. And yours."

"I know," said Jack.

"I…how?" asked Chris.

"Ah, you worry far too much, Timmy my boy. Those details are insignificant," said Jack. "This situation will be dealt with Tim, and with my usual discretion. I'll be in touch. Not by our usual media, however. Keep your eyes peeled."

"Wait…Jack," started Chris, thinking of the pack. "There are others…they're headed to the house. Please make sure they are not harmed. None of them. Please."

"You have my word," said Jack. Then he hung up.

_**November 2012**_

Chris and Allison sifted through the dozens of sympathy cards like two robots with dwindling power cells. It was all déjà vu to the two of them, as they had only dealt with Kate's death mere months before. Allison sighed, picking up the last of the cards. It was in a crisp baby blue envelope with a fancy cream lace design along the border. "Hmm," said Allison. "This one's got no return address," she said, going to open it. Chris looked at the front of the envelope and saw his name and address written neatly in black pen. It was Darlene's handwriting.

His eyes widened. "Um, let me open that one honey," he said, gently taking the envelope from her. She watched him with interest. "Allison would you mind grabbing me a beer from the fridge?" he asked.

The girl obeyed, taking one last look at the mysterious envelope before moving into the kitchen. Chris waited until he was completely alone before tucking his thumb under the fold and ripping the envelope open. Inside was a card, not written in Darlene's handwriting now, but Jack Whittemore's. A small business card fell from the card and on to the carpet. Chris lifted it, but did not look at it, preferring to read the contents of the card instead.

_"I've always liked the name Jackson much better than Christian. I think it suits my grandson, don't you? He is a good, strong boy and I see a lot of you in him, Chris. I know about your hunting and, if you'll excuse my opinion, but I don't think your heart is in it, my friend. Not anymore. Perhaps a change of career is in order? Well, it worked for me, after all. I put down my crossbow exactly seventeen years ago last month. Bet you didn't know that, did you?_

_Oh and by the way, I left you the business card of an excellent handyman. He can fix any problem. And I mean ANY._

_Regards,_

_JW_

Chris had to chuckle. So Jack was a hunter who gave up the life for his adopted werewolf grandson, was he? He shook his head. "I should have known."

Chris looked down at the card, which had pictures of a hammer and a saw, all the items a handyman would use. Suddenly he narrowed his eyes as the name of the proprietor: Mr. Michael Bowen.

_Mike Bowen_

Chris inhaled sharply. Mike Bowen staged Victoria's suicide. It was the perfect plan. Being a well-known hunter (despite bad blood with the Argents, which no one else knew about anyway) he'd surely be welcomed on to the property, possibly even into the house to use the bathroom or get something to eat. There, he'd easily disarm all of the wolf traps and make quick work of Victoria, thus getting the revenge on her that he'd always desired.

Chris had to give Jack credit. The man enlisted the aid of the hunter that Victoria blackmailed into killing Chris's beloved Catherine to now kill Victoria. Poetic justice ala the genius Jack Whittemore. Chris sighed and threw both cards into the fireplace...

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Growing ever more curious as to where his friends were, Stiles tuned his ears towards the goings on inside the massive estate house that sat thirty feet from the tower. Derek's five-year-old daughter Sasha was being somewhat resistant with her mother, Natalia, about cleaning the playroom. Jackson and Amy's boys, Nate and Jeremy, six and four respectively, learned quickly that it was best not to argue when one wanted to get outside quickly. And so, they dutifully picked up their toys in hopes of getting outside to see their uncle Stiles.

Erica and Isaac were in his room, once again arguing over the pronunciation of the word "nuclear". Stiles wondered why the topic got them so heated, but it did. He closed his eyes and listened even more carefully for the sound that had mesmerized him for six months…the little heartbeat that thrummed along with Erica's. It was that of his first son, who would be born wolf in early January. He smiled. "Can't wait to see you my boy," he said to the child, still slumbering inside his mother's womb. He heard Erica stop her argument upon hearing Stiles make the statement. She was flooded with happy feelings.

"And I bet he can't wait to see you babe," she said, warmly. "Can't blame him."

He smiled. "You're late," he complained. "I'm out here all by myself, woman."

He heard her get up off the bed and slap Isaac on the back of the head. "Come on," she said. "It's almost time and Stiles is getting antsy."

"Finally!" he called. Next, he listened for Scott, who was, once again on the phone with Allison, who was going to Stanford to finish up her law degree. Stiles sighed, knowing that Scott was chomping at the bit waiting for her final semester to end. Fortunately, she'd be done by Christmas, which was when he planned to propose to her.

Boyd and Derek were in the garage, always working on some old or unfortunate car that the two of them would refurbish at a hefty profit. Stiles was grateful, as their efforts made a lot of money to support the pack. That, coupled with Jackson's vast wealth, kept the pack living comfortably. However, most members of the pack still preferred to work or take their pack duties seriously. There were certainly no slouches in the family.

It sounded as if most of the group was getting ready to head outside, with the exception of Jackson and Amy. Having two very healthy and active boys didn't allow for them to share much private time together. They had to sneak that in when they could. And, from what Stiles could tell, they were currently taking advantage of the fact that the kids were in Natalia's care at that moment.

Amy had been in the shower when Jackson quickly snuck in to join her. They were doing their best to be quiet, but Stiles could detect the slight change in pheromones. He frowned, not wanting them to miss the big event. He stood atop the tower rails and leapt a remarkable distance to the balcony outside of Jackson and Amy's bedroom.

He let himself in via the sliding glass door and crept into the bathroom. He was still safe to enter as the couple was still only kissing. He flung open the shower curtain. Amy yelped in surprise while Jackson chuckled. Stiles huffed. "Guys, you're gonna miss it! Get your horny butts out of the shower and have sex at a time that's more convenient for ME. Come on! Time's a wastin'!" he hollered.

Jackson threw the soap at Stiles. "Just wait until that kid is born, Stiles. It's an entirely different world. Then you'll know how I feel."

Stiles smirked. "I know how you're feeling right now." He winked.

"Um…gross and get the hell out of here before I…" Jackson started, unable to keep a straight face.

"Before you what, pretty boy?" asked Stiles, folding his arms across his chest and grinning. His eyes flashed gold and he playfully growled.

Jackson took the showerhead and turned it towards Stiles, soaking him. Stiles feigned intense pain and shock. "Water? No! Not water! Of all things you've chosen my only natural enemy!"

"You know I THOUGHT that was the reason for the smell," said Jackson, shoulders shaking in laughter.

" I-I…I think I'm…" Stiles dramatically fell on the floor of the bathroom and played dead. Amy giggled. "I think you've killed him, Jackson."

He shut the shower curtain. "Well I guess there's nothing we can do at this point except have really loud sex in his honor."

Stiles suddenly jumped up off the floor. "Gee I'd love to stay but it's time for me to be hitting the old dusty trail."

"I thought that would help to revive you," said Jackson from behind the curtain.

Stiles moved the curtain aside again and peeked his head in. "Psst, Amy," he said.

Amy smiled and leaned closer to him. "Yes my darling beta?"

"Two things," said Stiles. "First, your ass looks fantastic for having two kids. Second," he said, fidgeting and jumping up and down. "YOU'RE GONNA MISS IT!"

Amy cracked up laughing. "Okay, okay we'll be out in five minutes. I swear."

"Thank you," said Stiles, sticking out his tongue at Jackson. "See? At least your wife listens to reason."

Jackson shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. I'm a little hurt that there was no mention of MY ass, though."

"Oh I'm sorry you wanted me to mention your ass? Oh okay, here you go." He pretended to throw up. "There's your mention!" he called over his shoulder as he exited.

"Ouch!" hollered Jackson. He looked down at Amy and smiled. "He was absolutely right about your ass, you know." He cupped her behind and gently squeezed it.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. "Why thank you sir. Likewise." They both giggled and held each other. "I guess our little plan will have to wait until later," said Amy.

"Damn," said Jackson. "But it's okay. Once the kids are asleep you're all mine," he said with an evil laugh.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

When Stiles went back out onto the balcony, the kids and the adults were climbing the tower. Sasha held on tightly to Derek as they climbed, while Nate and Jeremy happily exerted all of their pent up energy on the climb up. Erica, under strict orders from Stiles, took the stairs, as she was not allowed to do anything risky while pregnant. Once everyone reached the top, they all looked at Stiles eagerly. "Uncle!" exclaimed Jeremy happily. "Do it!"

Stiles faked confusion. "Do what, buddy?"

"The jump!" Jeremy said gleefully. "Do it! Do it!"

"The jump?" asked Stiles, teasing the boy. "Whatever do you mean? Do I…jump periodically? Does anyone else know what this is about?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Just do it, show off."

"Oh the JUMP!" said Stiles, slapping himself in the head. "I'd totally forgotten that I am able to jump higher and farther than any other werewolf, including the great Derek Hale!" He shook his head. "How could I be so silly to forget that?"

Scott laughed. "Come on Stiles," he said. "I think Nate and Jer are going to come right out of their socks if you make them wait any longer."

"Well if you REALLY want me to I guess I can't disappoint my fans," said Stiles, huffing like he was doing everyone a big favor. He balanced atop the balcony's rail with ease, launching himself in the air and landing soundlessly and gracefully on top of the tower. The boys rushed Stiles excitedly, eager to hug and wrestle with their favorite uncle. Stiles obliged and took a few moments to tussle with his nephews. Nate was the spitting image of Jackson. He was a bit of a serious child, but tended to let loose and get silly with Stiles. He adored his father and wasn't usually seen without Jackson. Jeremy, however, was all Amy in looks and in personality. He was a bubbly, outgoing boy who loved a good practical joke.

Sasha, always a gentle little she-wolf, simply went to Stiles and kissed his cheek. "Come here, Hun Bun," he said, lifting her onto his lap. She was a beautiful little girl, taking her mother's Peruvian good looks and Derek's intense hazel eyes. Sasha was the pack's Christmas gift five years earlier and one of the only people on Earth besides Natalia that could make Derek grin from ear to ear. "You ready for the big show?" Stiles asked her. She nodded and smiled.

Erica went to Stiles, leaning over and planting a kiss on his head. He turned and smiled, as his face was in line with her growing belly. He kissed her stomach and looked down at Sasha in his lap. "Sasha, tell my son that we don't want to wait three more months for him."

Sasha grinned and went to Erica's stomach. She knocked on it softly. "Hey baby why dontcha come out of there? We want to play with you!"

Everyone giggled, even Derek. He went to his daughter and picked her up.

Natalia stroked her daughter's hair. "Papa had a tough time waiting for you, too," she said.

"I remember," said Derek, tickling near Sasha's ribs. "It drove me crazy. I just couldn't wait to meet you."

She smiled and laid her head on her father's shoulder. Derek sat down with Natalia and Sasha settled in his lap. The little girl clapped in excitement.

Amy and Jackson made their way up the tower, hair still wet. "We're here," said Amy, looking at Stiles and snickering. "Although poor Jackson's probably got BB's."

Stiles snorted in laughter.

"What are BB's?" asked Scott.

Amy and Stiles shared the same look they always did when Scott was being dense. "I'd spell it for you Scott but Nate's reading now. "Blue balls," he mouthed, giggling.

Scott cocked his head to the side. "Oh!" He said. "Blue balls! Haha!"

Jackson groaned. "Nice going, McCall. And in three, two…"

"Dad, what are blue balls?" asked Nate. "Why do you have them?"

"Oops," said Scott, looking sheepish. "Sorry."

Stiles chuckled. "Can't wait until his teacher calls next week to tell you he blurted that one out in class."

Nate climbed into his father's lap and looked at him expectantly. Jackson just shook his head. "Mom was just talking about my, um, eyes, that's all."

"Oh!" said Nate. "Cause they're blue and round." He looked around at the pack. "So Uncle Stiles has brown balls. And Uncle Derek has green balls!"

Every adult in the pack started cracking up laughing. Jackson just chuckled and nodded. "Sure Nate. That sounds about right."

Nate, proud of his powers of deduction, snuggled against Jackson and got comfortable. Jeremy hopped in his mother's lap, while Stiles helped Erica to ease into his. "Whoo!" exclaimed Erica. "You guys might have to get a crane for me for when I stand up later."

"Growing quite the Buddha belly there, preggers," joked Boyd.

"And how," she said. "If I'm this big now I'll have to start wearing tarps for clothing at nine months."

Stiles wrapped his arms around her and nibbled her left ear. "You'll still be the most beautiful woman in the world."

She grinned and kissed his hand. "Thank you baby."

"Awww!" said Isaac. "Who knew ten years ago that you two would be so disgustingly happy?"

"What? I thought throwing people into dumpsters was the precursor to every happy relationship," said Stiles, shrugging. "Isn't it?"

"Totally," said Erica. "It's a normal progression."

Amy, at the far end of the tower, perked her ears. She could feel the rumblings on the ground and caught the musky scent of the visitors. "They're on their way!" she announced. Everyone cheered and the children excitedly bounced around.

Soon, everyone could hear them coming. The tower below them rippled from the vibration of hooves. The sky in the distance was orange and pink. The pack began to see the dark shapes moving against the horizon. Twenty-two bodies moved as one thundering wave.

Soon, their large, majestic forms could be made out. Sasha screamed with delight. "The horses! The horses, Papa!" she cried, looking back at Derek, who smiled and kissed the top of her head. The entire group shared in Sasha's excitement for the band of wild mustangs that visited their field every evening.

Stiles bounced with excitement, eager to see his favorite of the wild Mustangs, the band's stallion, who was typically at the front of his herd, along with the dominant mare. He smiled when the large chestnut male galloped towards them, leading the charge. The breeze took his mane and tail and both flowed gracefully in the wake of his movement.

The pack excitedly looked down as the band approached and then ran right below the tower, the Earth shaking under them. The lead mare whinnied in delight as the band circled around the grounds twice before entering the field where the animals would engage in play for a while. Stiles helped Erica up. "I can't wait until you can run with them too," he said, kissing her lips.

She rubbed her belly. "Oh I will soon enough. You go have fun. Don't go getting trampled," she joked.

Stiles, Scott, Isaac and Boyd climbed down the tower and rushed to the field. The parents chose to remain with the children, as they were too young to play with the large animals. In any case, the visits from the horses were still enjoyable from any perspective.

When the four males arrived in the field, Stiles locked eyes with the stallion, who he'd named Titan. The chestnut recognized the strange man-wolf that liked to run with his family each night. He slowed his gait and trotted over to Stiles, whose eyes glittered amber with excitement. The beast lowered his head for Stiles, who rubbed between his eyes and just near his soft mouth. The greeting, although highly uncharacteristic for an undomesticated creature, was common practice for Titan and Stiles. The animal was much larger and formidable in stature than Stiles, but he respected Stiles' great power and ability to run even faster than the horses could.

Isaac, Boyd and Scott were already locking gait with the animals, which had quickly learned that the strange wolf men did not intend to harm them. Venus, the dominant mare, led the charge, enjoying the challenge of trying to keep up with Scott. The young man urged her on through the field.

Stiles enjoyed his quiet moment with Titan before offering up a wordless challenge to the male. It was time for a running race. Stiles slunk down low and began to circle the field. He felt Titan break into his run and soon the stallion was right on Stiles' heels. Just as the horse was about to best the werewolf, Stiles leapt into a nearby tree.

The horse skidded to a halt and looked up at Stiles as if to say, "Hey! Not fair!"

Stiles giggled and jumped down. "Sorry T. Couldn't resist."

Titan puffed and nodded his head, urging Stiles down for more play. The young man didn't disappoint. He hopped down from the tree and onto Titan's strong back. Stiles held fast to the stallion's mane. "Let's see what you got," said Stiles, grinning and bracing himself.

Titan giddily reared up and lurched forward, his powerful legs propelling their bodies forward at remarkable speed. Stiles hooted with delight as he felt the sinewy beast move so fluidly below him. It was as if they were one being, slicing through the air, both untamed and free.

Stiles glanced over at Amy, who watched him proudly. He blew her a kiss, as she was the one who bestowed the gift of wolf upon him. He waved at her. "You should come down Amy!" he called. "This is an even better feeling than being on the bike!"

She smiled but shook her head, not wanting the kids to feel bad. "It's okay Stiles, you have fun."

Jackson looked over at her, his wild, raven-haired beauty. It had been too long since he saw her perched on her Aprilia, feeling the wind whip through her hair. He smiled, taking Jeremy from her and placing him on his lap next to Nate. "Go," he said, nodding to the field. "If you still think you've got it after all this time," he challenged, winking at her.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Ride the horses now, then, yada, yada, yada…me later."

She grinned. "Did I ever tell you that I love you?"

He kissed her. "Every day, thank God."

"Did I ever tell you that I love your cooking?" she asked, smirking.

"Yes, you and Stiles effectively illustrated that point last night when I caught the two of you behind the couch, like thieves, eating the rest of my black forest cake with your bare hands," said Jackson, chuckling. "Now get out there, will you?"

She looked down at the boys. "Wish me luck, kids."

"Go Mom, whoo!" called Jeremy.

Amy hopped off the tower and sprang into a run without missing a beat. She arrived at the field and immediately locked eyes with Venus, the dominant mare. She was a stunning dapple gray with beautiful, enormous eyes. Amy and Venus had met before, but the mare generally ignored the alpha, perhaps to show dominance. The two females approached each other slowly. When Venus reached Amy, she kept her head held high, unsure of Amy's intentions.

Amy's eyes glowed red. She held her hand out to Venus. "It's okay," she said. "I'm just here to play." The mare lowered her head, but only slightly. Amy thought perhaps the female wanted a challenge, as she was face to face with another alpha, just one of a different kind. However, after a few moments, Venus finally lowered her head and allowed Amy to stroke it gently. Amy loved the sound of the mare's gentle exhalations in her ear. The horse didn't fear her, not in the least. However, Amy was skeptical of her willingness to let Amy mount her.

Amy watched the other wolves run and saw Stiles and Titan in the distance, obviously having the time of their lives. "Hmmm," said Amy to Venus. "Looks like the boys are having all the fun. Can't let them show us up now can we?"

As if she understood, Venus moved to the side, turning her head coyly towards Amy. "Atta girl Venus!" said Amy, swiftly hopping onto her back. She quickly grasped the thick mane and, once steady, Venus took off like a bullet.

It took Amy a few moments to adjust to the feeling of the animal but the two were soon moving together with power and grace. Amy was reminded of her long days on her Aprilia, coasting through the air as if she had wings. Before, on her bike, she could never close her eyes. However, with Venus at the helm, she was able to let go and trust that her partner would keep her safe. Her lashes slipped down and she simply enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness and of pure joy.

She relaxed, easily balancing on the horse. Her long hair was taken by the wind. It was a wonderful, cleansing feeling. At that moment, she was grateful for everything she had. Every heartache, every worry, every minute of discomfort and sadness during her quest to find a pack was all worth the life she had now.

Amy suddenly opened her eyes, not wanting to ever close them again for fear of missing one second of her existence. And she was glad she did because, upon her eyes sliding open, she saw her betas gleefully running with wild Mustangs. She saw Stiles having the time of his life while the woman he loved cheered him on. She even saw Derek smiling broadly, finally at peace and happy.

Then there were her beautiful boys. And Jackson. He was the one who gave her this life after all. Years before she'd spent so much time wondering how she could ever thank him for everything he'd done for her. But seeing their sons and the look of genuine bliss on her husband's face, she knew that she already had. And she would for every moment of their lives.


End file.
